


With a Friend and a Stranger

by LazlosLulls



Series: Author Appeal [2]
Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon), Sym-Bionic Titan
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Good Brother Wirt, Mutual Pining, Non binary Wirt, POV Alternating, Platonic Hand Holding, Slow Burn, Wirt taught Lance Poetry, abandoned spaceship, adults are useless, baron is a dick but when is he not?, just because i reference trope names doesn't mean i can use them well, scifi references because we are all nerds, self indulgent fanfic HERE WE GO!!, slowest burn lance x wirt because they both deserve soft things, technically a mystery, they them pronoun wirt because why not???, trickster wirt, wirt and greg moved to Sherman before Titan became a Thing, wirt pov and lance pov, wirt uses tropes to rationalize and cope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-07-06 18:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15891984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazlosLulls/pseuds/LazlosLulls
Summary: Greg plays hide and seek in an alien ship. Wirt is trying very hard to not have a panic attack. Lance is concerned about his secret identity. Octus delegates like a boss. Ilana is just glad it's not another giant monster fight.~“…just, follow the trail, Pilgrim.” Their voice was loud in the sudden quiet. “No. This isn’t about the journey is it?” Wirt shuddered, “I’m on a quest, so I’m…” they barely spoke, “the Hero.”Heroes always have a goal to attain, and theirs was to get Greg back safely with them. Was anything going to stop them? No, Wirt realized. Were they going to let anything stop them? Also no. No matter what happens, they won’t stop until Greg got home, Wirt vowed.





	1. Call to Adventure

**Chapter 1 - Call To Adventure  
**

It was English class. Early Tuesday, and the teacher probably didn’t know that he was going over the same material as last week. It wasn’t helping Lance with his homework, either.

Memorizing the characters didn’t help, and the teacher’s monotone voice didn’t help him keep attention. If there was anything on this planet that he couldn’t conquer through sheer force, it would probably be high school. Lance’s wristwatch buzzed.

Another attack? The Rift Gate opened again? Lance immediately sat up and raised his hand.

“I need to leave class!” came from behind him. “Does anyone have a car? I need to pick my brother up from school.” It was Wirt. They grabbed at their desk violently, which made a pencil drop to the floor. They whipped down to pick it up, clipping their head on the desk as they came up. “My parents can’t make it! Please, I gotta go get him!”

This was a perfect opportunity. “I can take them!” Lance jumped up, grabbing Wirt’s wrist and pulling them out of class.

“Your parents need to infor – “The teacher called after them, but they were out the door. “Ugh.”

The soldier looked back, checking on his friend. To his credit, Wirt had already grabbed his backpack, and ran as fast as Lance was pulling him. Wirt was thin, with round, dark eyes, separated by his long nose. A piece of messy brown hair got caught in their eyes, but they blew it away in irritation. “What?” they said, probably used to the effort, given that they were in marching band.

Lance turned away.

They burst out the door, located the car and hopped in.

“Sherman.” They took a big gulp of air, “Sherman Elementary.” Wirt put their seatbelt on and immediately took out their phone. “Got, a, ride.” The nervous teenager typed. Lance started driving. “It’s down the road, close to the forest line.” Wirt said, addressing Lance again.

Wirt’s phone chimed, and they checked it. If it wasn’t for the seatbelt, they would have jumped out the window. “Oh- oh oh migosh. Oooh oh no what what happened?”

“Hmm?”

“There’s uhh, wait until a stoplight. Greg sent me a picture.” Wirt responded. They then started to tap their fingers together, deeply breathing. The car stopped, their hands were shaking but they gave Lance the cellphone.

It was Manus armor. He could see that the energy blasters were stripped off, leaving just the sword and grenade reserves. And colored a rusty red, with pitted scars. He’d never thought that he’d see anything like it again.

Wirt talked because there was no one else to talk. “That’s probably why the parents were called. But they didn’t warn us about this! What is it, anyway, some new Titan robot? Reinforcements or something?”

Lance clicked his watch on. “Newton. Check if there’s any reports of a disturbance at Sherman Elementary.”

“Your watch is a phone?”

Lance shrugged, brushing off the question as Newton answered back. “I’ll look into it. Titan may not be far behind. You need to get what you can and go.”

“Understood.”

They arrived at the school. More accurately, they arrived at least a block from the school due to traffic. Wirt grabbed their bag and looked out the window. “Just drop me off. I know my way home from here, we’ll walk.”

“There’s -” Lance tried for a word, “that thing out there. You won’t be safe. Let me-”

“All these parents are here. If they knew what was going on, they’d have called the police, or the military or something. I’m just gonna go in there like normal and pick him up.”

“He was close enough to take a picture, he might still be in danger, and I can come with you and hel-.”

Wirt’s eyes narrowed, “What are you going to do against a two story tall machine, Lance? I mean, do you think you’re going to fight it or something? One teenager is less of a target. This isn’t your job, it’s mine. Greg’s my little brother and I’m going to get him. If you’re that concerned, keep the car ready.” In one swift move, Wirt pulled up the lock and opened the door, leaving the car. Lance could grab them and keep arguing, but he didn’t, letting his friend dash through to the school.

Lance’s eyes flicked to his watch.

-

Wirt calmed their breathing, making their way through the bustling elementary school. “Hey, Mrs. Pleats. I’m here for Greg.” They looked around at the assembled kids, waving at a few when they waved to them.

The woman’s smile grew pinched. “He went outside for recess. He wanted to show me something on his phone, but the children aren’t allowed phones so I took his phone away, and then the call came to put them inside for them to wait for their parents, and…the proper people have been notified.” The teacher was being calm, trying not to disturb the children.

“Greg didn’t come back.” Ice dripped down their spine. Then they sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. They muttered, and no one heard, “Of course he’d talk to the robot. Of course he’d get abducted by aliens.”

As if on cue, the desks moved, an aftershock from a faraway earthquake.

Or a nearby alien ship. Or well, those robots that come by every week or so to fight monsters.

They could feel a headache coming on, “It’s not you, it’s just an overloaded educational system,” Wirt muttered and rubbed their temples. “Okay. Give me the phone. Take care of the rest of your kids. I’ll find my brother.” She gave it to them and they shoved it in their bag. Wirt took off to the playground, walking toward the tree line.

“If I’m lucky, like really lucky, he just hid in the trees like he does and I’ll grab him first thing and-” There was a trench in the forest, the smell of freshly overturned dirt assaulted their nose. It was a tread that he was more familiar with in photographs pulled up on his phone. It was the same footprint as the purple robot that made Titan.

Right next to the imprint was a butterscotch candy. Wirt felt their stomach drop.

“…just, follow the trail, Pilgrim.” Their voice was loud in the sudden quiet. “No. This isn’t about the journey is it?” Wirt shuddered, “I’m on a quest, so I’m…” they barely spoke, “the Hero.”

Heroes always have a goal to attain, and theirs was to get Greg back safely with them. Was anything going to stop them? No, Wirt realized. Were they going to _let_ anything stop them? Also no. No matter what happens, they won’t stop until Greg got home, Wirt vowed.

They walked onward, panicking slightly when the trail got muddied by enormous footprints. But they pressed onward, finally getting to a clearing. There was a building, not quite like what he’d seen before. He’s studied architecture in his spare time, but this looked unreal. Sort of four oval bubbles pressed together into a room, with swirled metal fused in between them and on them as functional decoration. Not quite what they're used to on Earth.

They also knew that because the Titan Trio was around it. Well. The clear one and the golden one. They must know something. Wirt shuddered as they approached. They looked smaller on the television. One was at least ten feet tall, human shaped, with gleaming, golden metal plating. The other was clearly non-human, just a purple sphere with three rectangles coming from it as well as thin wires ending in appendages, surrounded by a bluish clear humanoid shell.

As he approached, they turned around. Wirt was struck by the golden one’s eerie blue eyes, and the heart-shaped blue glow coming from its chest. Even without seeing it, they knew they were being watched.

“Hel-Hello!” they'd obviously lost their mind. “Have you seen my brother? He sent me a picture of your friend.” Wirt pulled out their phone, hands shaking as they pulled up pictures, first of Greg, then the red robot. “Or…I uhh think he’s your friend. I can’t really presume-”

“Wirt! What are you doing?” Lance appeared from the forest, out of breath. “I thought you were getting your brother.”

“It’s dangerous here.” The clear robot spoke up, yellow light flashing with the words. Obviously the spokesperson of the two, it shrunk down closer to Wirt’s size. “I am Octus, and this is Corus, we are part of the Sym Bionic Titan. We are here to help. You should leave to stay safe.”

“Not without my brother.”

“Your brother may be out of your reach. This is a transport pod, able to do short warps from the planet’s surface to a ship in orbit. I have accessed the logs: someone has been transported up that matches the description. It is too dangerous for you to go alone. We will find your brother for you.” The logic was sound, but the thought of Greg, all alone on an alien ship, waiting for strangers to pick him up, was nerve-wracking.

Lance was moving closer, making to drag them away, probably. Does he realize how protective he’s being? What drilled those rules into him that he barely knows he’s following them? A flash of an idea, and Wirt knew they had to try. “You are sortof…a robot right? Three laws compliant?”

Lance’s brow lifted, confused, but Octus answered. “I am familiar with the concept of Asimov’s laws. We will not allow anyone to come to harm, or at least contain and minimize the harm.”

Wirt breathed in and out, “Oookay.” They made a run for it, stopping at the pod before declaring, “I’m going in anyway. You can’t stop me, so you’ll have to help me. Lance.” They turned to their friend, “Greg’s in danger, I’m going after him. You don’t have to follow me, you can go home if you want, but I’m not leaving here without Greg.”

“Wirt! You can’t just,” Lance’s words caught in his throat. For a split second, he looked angry, then smiled. “You should know, I’m coming with you.”

Octus approached the pod. “Agreed. The search mission will be easier with your assistance. Lance. Wirt. If everyone is ready, we can board.”

“Wait, let me-” Wirt pulled out their phone.

“Do not tell anyone about us.” Octus warned.

“I know, I know, I’m telling Ethan that I got a ride with Lance and we’re all hanging out for the afternoon.” They waved their hand dismissively. “Lance, are you going to tell your family anything? You did take the car.”

Lance blinked, then made a quick motion with his phone. He glanced at the aliens. “I’m sure they’re not too worried.”

**To be continued…**

To those who question why Greg has a phone…there have been several giant monsters that have attacked Sherman already. The prevailing idea is that if a child gets lost, they have their phone to text and call for help. If cell lines have been cut at least they have their parent’s names and their home addresses written in the phones. There’s also addresses and contact information put in their clothes and bags as well. Or just imagine Wirt handing off his higher tech phone to Greg. Whatever.

-

Wirt’s surname is Ward and Greg’s surname is Muto, named after Pen Ward, creator of Adventure Time, and Adam Muto, crew member who took over Adventure Time after Pen stepped down. This probably won’t be mentioned again, but just FYI.

-

Wirt’s got a crush on Lance. Lance likes Wirt as well. I’m just going to write it as a small moments between the two. Subtle stuff, as both of them have things to deal with in this story.

-

Anyway, welcome to this plot monster! Hope you enjoy!

**Epilogue**

Ethan Muto was at his desk, worrying. A text: _hey dad I got Greg we’re hanging out for the afternoon, don’t worry we’ll be back for dinner._

He wrote back, then looked at the news reports. They made it out just in time. Apparently, the purple Titan robot had confronted his red doppelganger and tore up some of the surrounding forest.

_Thnx. C U @ dinner 2!_

And he typed in 3 heart emojis for good measure. He exhaled, glad that Greg and his brother were safe.


	2. Conversational Troping

**Chapter 2 - Conversational Troping  
**

_“Alright, let’s go.”_

_“Initiating teleport.”_

There was a sudden light, their body tingled, they tried grabbing onto Lance but their arms stuck firm to their sides, if they touched Lance would they fuse together? Wirt’s breathing grew rapid, and they felt themself sway as they worried. It was dark, cold and dark and they couldn’t breathe and how could they find Greg like this and coming to space was a mistake and-

“Wirt, you can open your eyes.” Lance’s voice was calm, assured, and two feet in front of them.

They blew out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. Lance was holding his arm out, eyes gentle, waiting for Wirt to steady themself. “Thanks.” Their stomach was full of stones, so Wirt breathed, counting back from ten. They observed their surroundings, ignoring the fact that they all were floating in actual space in an actual alien ship.

It was a large room, painted a creamy yellow color with a dark wood supports. There was a decoration, on the wall, three golden crescents placed back to back in a triangle formation, on a square of dark red. Circular lights casted a soft glow from the ceiling. Despite the warm colors, the air was chilly. There was a clear path to the rest of the ship, and off to the side, a podium colored the same dark wood with another three crescent motif. It reminded them of colonial buildings in that historical village their class visited once.

Wirt breathed in, expecting dusty air and wooden smells, but instead nothing. Sterile. That made sense. “Wow. So, umm a spaceship.” They said, taking his first shaking steps, sliding their hand down to Lance’s for support.

Lance seemed undisturbed, “Yeah.” They walked over to the podium, where Octus was waiting for them. The other side of the podium looked complicated; neatly marked levers, switches, and buttons on display. Wirt was starting to suspect that the ‘wood’ was a metal of some sort.

Corus was standing there, and Wirt could almost imagine a curious look on their metal face. “This is a very straightforward ship.” The voice came out tinny. “And one of ours, Octus should have no trouble in interfacing with the system.”

“I have. Here is a map of the ship.” Octus projected a hologram of a ship, then zoomed inward. “I’ve accessed the records, here are the only doors that have opened recently.” He projected a flat map, “Luckily, they are all on this level. We can separate and meet on the Observation deck on the other end of the ship. Wirt, you and Lance will go through the-“

“No, Greg won’t recognize either of you. Lance and I will have to split up.” It was the only way. “If you see Greg, tell him…Enoch is the mayor of Pottsfield. That means he’ll know it’s me who sent you.”

“Okay. Then I’ll go with Corus on this route.” Lance drew a finger above the map, creating a path. “Octus, you can take Wirt on the shorter path through the Medbay.”

“Agreed.”

Plan set, Wirt took their place beside Octus, shooting a nervous smile at their friend. This was going to work. They was going to find their brother. The sliding door clicked behind them. Very _Star Trek_. Though the wooden accents make it feel more fairytale, more fantasy than science fiction. _Star Wars_. That’s what this reminds them of. They were about to tell this to Octus, but bit their tongue. Would a space alien even know about human science fiction? Or even want to know?

Beyond the door were four hallways of cabinets, a lot like the locker room at Sherman High. “Greg? Greegg!” Wirt called out. “I’ll take one side and you take the other, we’ll meet at the exit.” They were all coffee tan with grey handles. They strode from one side to the other, streamlined. Not a thing out of place. “This is a good setup, I can work with this.” Wirt mumbled to themself. “I’m the hero, I’m the hero…”

“How are you a hero? You haven’t done anything heroic yet.” Octus said from the other end. The yellow center of his body lit up when he spoke. Wirt found it calming.

Then they remembered the question. “Well- yeah, that’s short for protagonist, uhh, the person that the story is about.” Oh gosh they  had to explain their coping method to an alien that’s gotta be a first in history. “I kind of imagine myself as the hero of a story, and then I can step back and look at my actions from another view. It helps.” Wirt shrugged. “So if I broke the events down from my perspective, I set out to get my brother, which is my goal, and I had to face you to get onto the ship, that meant you,” Wirt rounded a corner and met up with Octus, awed by how big he was, “were a threshold guardian. The ship is technically the strange land where I face my trials. Then, hopefully, the climax is that I find my brother and the wind down is where we all leave as friends without anything terrible happening. It’s one of the basic plots.” The teenager shrugged, leading the way out of the room.

“Interesting. There is much about the human thought process that I don’t understand. This way of thinking will help in my research.”

“Oh! That’s…good. Glad I could help.” They thought about the response, “Research? You mean you weren’t sent here to protect the Earth?” Wirt bent down, looking underneath the cabinets as well. There wasn’t an underneath. Wirt shivered.

“Protecting the Earth is not our main objective. However, it is a priority. You had mentioned Asimov’s Laws. There is a variation on the Three Laws on our world that I can follow.”

“That you can follow? As in, you choose? That’s huh, that’s amazing!” Wirt shuddered, probably in excitement, “Robotics haven’t advanced that much on Earth, though of course you probably knew that and…” Wirt’s hands grasped at a handle and he tugged. “Ahh!” their fingertips stung, they rubbed their hands together. “Cold! Why is it so cold here?” they started holding their arms close to conserve heat.

“Presumably to save power. Your internal temperature is falling below proper range.” The robot paused. “That is strange. Our species have the same tolerances for cold, the environmental settings should be optimal for you.”

“Maybe they all have jackets…wish I’d brought mine.” Wirt grumbled. And they pestered Greg this morning about just the same thing…

They left, door sliding open. Wirt’s first impression is that it was bright, not a tan corridor or wide with creamy yellow walls, but a bluish white. It was another room, large with three sky blue benches in the middle and a yellow reception desk.

“The Medical Bay.” Octus said.

“Yeah, hospital, got it.” They grumbled. Another three moon symbol decorated the desk, this time in pea green. “Greg? Are you in here?” The teenager rushed forward, darting behind the desk. “Woah!”

It was a muddle of grey metal and clear wires. Torn apart and hidden away like Wirt does with their laundry. Out of sight, out of mind. “Octus…I dunno if you want to see this…” there were shards of black glass and metal crunching underneath their shoes. Octus was quiet, possibly scanning the area. Wirt wondered if this was like seeing a corpse. “What happened here?” Some parts were sliced cleanly, but then there was parts that were crushed. Wirt moved closer to Octus.

“Unknown. The main computer shows that this receptionist didn’t cease functioning in the past 24 hours.” Octus turned away, stepping to the terminal and tapping the keyboard.

Cease functioning. Fun way to put it. Wirt tore their eyes away, looking for the pathway. “So whatever did this, did it a while ago.” How long was this ship in orbit? Corus said that it was ‘one of ours’, and Corus was Titan, they meant no harm. Whatever came here may not be friendly. ‘ _Greg, you’d better be very good at hide and seek,’_ Wirt lectured in his head.

“This seems to be a blind spot. I’ve alerted the mainframe, but it seems to be placing repairs on low priority.” The sliding door opened, and Wirt could hear the faint noise of others in the distance. “I’ve opened the patient’s rooms. If we can’t find Greg here, he must have gone to the other path.”

Wirt searched, bending down below each bench. Crammed in the corner was a bundle of something. The material was sturdy, a thick wool in a dark blue. “What…is this? Why is it here?” they asked.

“This is a Medical Officer’s coat. If I may-” Octus grabbed it from them. Blue lines started to glow from underneath the fabric, spreading through it like circuitry. “Here. I’ve reprogrammed it to recognize you.”

“Thank you.” It was warm, and lighter than they thought it would be. The outside was a deep, dark blue, with six golden buttons, three on each side connected by gold thread across the opening seam. The inner lining was white, with pockets that were at the perfect place for Wirt to shove their hands into. They felt…dreamlike, suddenly calmer when it was draped around their shoulders, so much like the historic cloak…but an upgrade. A conscious choice to become the Hero. There were little patches inside the pockets, all white, all different shapes with different symbols on them. “What are these?”

“Medicinal patches. This is a Medical Officer’s coat, it can generate a limited amount of medical supplies. The round one is a sleep patch, it causes the subject to fall asleep for a small period of time. The square is anesthetic, it numbs the local area for four hours. The triangle is a small wound dressing and pain reducer.” Octus answered.

“Huh. Better just put these back then.” They knew this trick. Foreshadowing, Chekov’s gun, whatever you call it. Wirt won’t forget this…just in case whatever attacked the receptionist found them. They couldn’t afford to get distracted.

Wirt stepped through the sliding door, but stopped when Octus spoke. “There is something I need to ask you. Your adrenaline levels have been consistent since we’ve arrived. You have not been startled or scared by anything. I do not understand why you are so calm.”

Wirt stopped, looking at the robot. Could he really not tell? “I’m not calm,” they started to explain, “your baseline is incorrect. Greg is lost in a strange place with dangerous people. This is already my worst nightmare. No point in getting more upset.” Wirt shrugged, walking away.

Each of the patient’s rooms were clean white, lightly lit with a computer terminal, two chairs and a patient’s cot. They resisted the urge to dig through the cabinets. Beyond the patient rooms there was an area closer to a hospital floor. But instead of wheeled beds, there were pods, like black pistachio shells, cracked open and emptied. Aside from one. It was a mint green, and when Wirt drew near, information projected on the sides, scrawled in strange language. But there was a silhouette on the side, a humanoid form, with parts sectioned in different colors. “Octus! Someone’s here!” When the robot appeared at their side, Wirt said, “Something’s up with the silhouette though.”

“This is an anatomically correct silhouette.”

“No…something’s wrong…” Wirt held up their hands, measuring the head. “It’s almost right. They’re in a multiple of three. They don’t have the right anatomy.”

“What?”

“I – I hang around a lot of art nerds, who try and draw human bodies. You see, for an adult, you’re supposed to take your head and be able to measure your body with it. Like, your full height is four heads tall, or fingertip to fingertip is four heads. But the one here…six heads high. Why are they in here?”

“This is a treatment pod. Presumably they were injured. This chart says that they’ve been healed over two weeks ago and have been in cold sleep.”

“So we can’t ask them if they’ve seen Greg. Still, it’s a bit strange that they’re the only one here…” Wirt looked over at the head of the pod. “I wonder what they look like.”

“Actually, humans are remarkably similar to-” Wirt’s hand touched the top, and the whole pod turned yellow.

“Oh no.” Wirt stepped further away.

It cracked open, revealing a man with short white hair. He was dressed in a red overcoat with gold trim with white panels that turned into pants, making it more like a jumpsuit. There were three golden stripes and buttons on his chest from side to side, reminding Wirt of his band outfit. His eyes blinked open, the whites of their eyes making a moon against their black iris.

In an instant, the soldier bolted upright, flinging himself out of the pod. He landed on his side, but his angered glare pointed directly at Wirt’s face.

 “I’m General Hobbs of the Galalunian resistance. You are trespassing on my ship. State your name, rank and intention.” His face was wrinkled, sour and scarred with a square cut jaw.

“Guyah! Ahh-uhh!” was Wirt’s only reply.

Octus had at least a little more sense. “Octus, Robotic Guardian, escort and recon. Emergency pass code: Far Scape 03.” Hobbs glare softened, but he still looked at Wirt.

“Uhh…Wirt, civilian, search and rescue. Are you alright?”

“I can’t…feel my legs. How long was I in treatment?”

“The pod states one standard month. You were in critical care. Please do not strain yourself further.” The blue robot downloaded the chart. “Please forgive Wirt. We have yet to encounter anyone else on this ship.”

“Well of course. The colonists have already disembarked.” Hobbs sat up, hissed and clutched his head. “It’s what happened after. There was a mutiny. I can’t remember any more after that.” His hand moved to his side. “I’ve failed her again.”

“Someone must have put you in this pod, right? Do we have information on that, Octus?” Wirt asked.

“No.”

“If we get to the main computers, couldn’t we access surveillance or something?”

Hobbs looked Wirt up and down, “How long have you had that coat?”

“Not long.”

The older man nodded, “Hmm. We’d better get going.”

Octus spoke up. “Agreed.” He pulled out a contraption from the room and unfolded it into something close to a wheelchair. “I’m going to pick you up, sir.”

“Alright, if you must.” Octus hoisted Hobbs into the chair. He tested it, leaning forward and back and the wheelchair moved where he needed it to be, arms directing the wheels.

Wirt stood off to the side, feeling slightly useless, “So-do you need to be pushed, or…?” The general was already moving through the halls. They sighed. “Yeah, let’s get going.”

**To be continued…**

I didn’t want a generic, fancy high tech ship. So, to carry with the Victorian Era clothing of Galaluna, the ship is Colonial. To Lance and Ilana, this ship is standard issue, sturdy and basic. There’s nothing extraneous about this ship, it was built for efficiency and space. The high tech things are limited to the staff’s areas, the captain, etc. The steering mechanisms are easily understood so that even the least experienced pilot could keep this ship afloat. There’s also a huge amazing AI that’s been keeping the whole thing cloaked and dodging satellites very well, so well that practically nobody knows that it’s orbiting Earth.

-

Cut line, because how am I going to reconcile supernatural stuff of _Gravity Falls_ with the Modern sci fi of _Symbionic Titan_ and the in-between magic of _Over the Garden Wall_? I can’t, so, here’s Wirt mentally rubbing it in Dipper’s face. Italics is the line before it in the story.

 _He observed his surroundings, ignoring the fact that they all were floating in actual space in an actual alien ship_. Eat your heart out, Dipper. He may have crawled through overtaken museum pieces buried in caves, but Wirt? Wirt is dealing with the living, breathing aliens. Well. Robot aliens, which were living, in a way.

-

Greg and Wirt have had a big talk about their time in the Unknown. They came up with a code, Enoch means that ‘this person looks scary, but they follow rules and won’t hurt you.’ It obviously applies to the Titan Trio.

-

Wirt watched _Star Trek_ reruns with his mom while she was recovering from her divorce. Wirt’s stepdad introduced _Star Wars_. They were all stoked for the _Doctor Who_ reboot. All science fiction is welcome at their house.

-

I can’t have a Wirt fic without the cloak! I can’t even imagine Wirt without his cone, you really think I would let Wirt walk around without his signature item? It’s a support piece, to be worn in tandem with a spacesuit. As you’ve seen, it heats up to protect the wearer, creates medical supplies, it’s bulletproof, fireproof, shockproof, waterproof as well as being a flotation device, and has a built in universal translator if Wirt needed it.

-

The Far scape pass code series refers to robots that guard individuals while on an alien planet. They are authorized to blend in with the locals and survive within certain ethical parameters. Reference to the TV show _Farscape_. It’s a space adventure with puppets. You should look it up.

-

I know that in the show, the Galalunians are not drawn and able to be in thirds. I just wanted an easy shorthand on how Wirt can tell ‘Earth humans’ from ‘Space humans’. It fits with their motif of the number three anyway.

-

**Epilogue that ended up being non-canon**

“Wirt! Lance and Corus have located your brother! We’re going to meet up with them in the cafeteria!”

“Okay! I’m coming!” Wirt got back to the reception area, peering back at the broken machine. “Ugh. Reminds me of an episode of _Doctor Who_ where the robotic crew took apart their passengers for parts to fix the ship.”

“I assure you that none of the artificial crew is capable of that.”

“It was just a TV show…you can look it up when you’re not busy. What do superheroes do when they’re not working?”

Octus paused before answering. “Have you seen _Animal Friends_? I find it helpful in understanding societal rules.”

“I’m not interested in that show. If you like animals in human situations, though, my penpal highly recommends _Ducktective_.”

“What is it about?”

“Well…”

They walked out of the Medical Bay together.


	3. Two Lines, No Waiting

**Chapter 3 - Two Lines, No Waiting  
**

“I’ll go with,” _Ilana_ , his mind, “Corus,” his voice, “on this route.” Lance decided. Wirt couldn’t go on the longer path, there was more chance that they would face the Manus pilot, and Wirt was a civilian. They’re not prepared for any mission.

As they split up, Wirt had smiled at him, looking scared all the same. Lance walked away, banishing the sight. This was just another rescue mission, no matter how scared Wirt was shouldn’t affect his performance. Lance let his training take over, surveying the new room, falling in a steady rhythm beside Ilana. “Don’t remove your armor, we don’t know if the Manus unit is still here.” He said. “Or who was piloting it.”

She nodded, “Was that Wirt? From English class?” The princess’s voice was filtered, but no less conversational. She towered over him, surveying the upper parts of the room while he ducked under tables and chairs.

“Yeah.” He said, stopping himself from checking on his hand. That was right, she had asked Kimmy if she knew anyone that could help Lance in English. They’d set up the first tutoring session. Wirt was afraid of him at first, but after the first tutoring, they’d met up a few times socially. He was a lot better company than some of the other people at Sherman. He wasn’t about to ask, but Lance wondered if texting each other at three am was…too intimate for friendship. It’s been a long time since he’s had friends.

“How are you feeling?” Ilana cut through his thoughts

She was asking for a self-assessment. “Fine. They were trying to cripple Manus, not the driver. But, that fighting style reminded me of…someone I knew at the Academy. Baron.” He added as an afterthought.

“Baron…? About your age, white hair, long nose?”

Lance stopped. Of course he’d make it to the Royal Guard. He’d boasted that he would, every chance, and he had the pedigree to prove it. He took every opportunity to look good in front of authority.  Ilana would probably be smitten. “Yeah.” Lance admitted.

“He insulted Hobbs.” She said. “He thought that I needed ‘someone younger to protect the royal lineage’.” Ilana continued, “They tested us in a simulation together, he immediately wanted me to leave to safety. His logic was sound, but cold. I refused, as this was a relatively safe place, and there were people unaccounted for. He argued, but I couldn’t trade my life for my people – not if we could save them. I recommended him for heart training and refused his application for the Royal Guard.”

Lance felt a vicious bite of pride.

“I wonder what happened to him.” Despite the filtering, she sounded forlorn.

He took a second, thinking. “He was probably stationed in the castle by the time the attack happened. He was the Academy’s top student, so he should be fine.”

Of course, he wouldn’t know. Lance was inside the castle walls when the attack began, he didn’t see the sky fill with monsters, turn red from the sunset and black from the smoke. He’d briefly wondered where Ilana was as it happened. She rarely mentioned the attack itself; only that ‘they needed to return’.

They moved to the next room, a hallway with several elevators. “This place is massive!” from the opposite of the elevators were large windows. There was an expanse of stars, and the Earth stretched out below them, ice blue with a dusting of misty clouds. Lance couldn’t help it, he drew close to the window, gazing outward. “Where did this ship come from?”

“Maybe it’s from the Resistance!” Ilana drifted to the other side of the room.

“We don’t know that; we don’t even know who piloted the ship here.” His reflection drew its brows together, gaze sharpening. “Stay on your guard.”

“I’m sure that they’d recognize the Crown Princess.”

A huge gasp came from the elevators. One of the plants tipped over, revealing a small child. He was in light green jacket, with cartoon frog belly and arms. It swallowed his arms to the knuckles and legs to the knees. He was round in the face, with long bangs of messy brown hair pushed from brown eyes. A frog bag was on his back. The 1st grader frowned for a second at the mess, but then smiled at Corus. “You’re a princess? I’m sometimes a princess, when I wanna be.” He toddled over to the golden robot, unafraid. “You’re so pretty!”  Soft brown eyes caught sight of the window and he stopped. “Lance! I didn’t know you were in space!”

They’ve met, only briefly when he was invited to Wirt’s home. But it was impossible to separate Wirt entirely from Greg. He’s heard more than a few of his ‘antics’, as they were so lovingly called by his brother. “Greg! What are you doing?”

“Playing hide and seek! What are you doing?”

“Looking for you. Greg we have to leave, this place is dan-”

“Okay, now you’re gonna go hide, and I’ll come and find you! Bye robot princess! Bye Lance!” Greg waved at them, then tripped, landing face first on the carpet.

If he was more familiar with him, Lance could have grabbed Greg, stopping the mess before it started. But the soldier hesitated, instead waiting for Greg to get up himself.

Greg sat up and spat out something white into his palm. Greg stared at it for a second, then yelled. He ran up to Lance and showed him the white thing and yelled. He darted to Ilana and showed her the white thing and yelled. Greg ran out into the next hall and his footsteps stopped and he yelled, then continued running.

Shocked, Lance finally said, “Did that actually just…”

“Happen? Yes.” Ilana clicked on her comms. “Octus, we saw Greg, he was heading towards the cafeteria.”

“Excellent. We will make our way there as well.”

Footsteps came from the other room. “Oh good, he’s back.” Ilana said. “Greg, your brother is waiting to take you home.”

It was not Greg. It was another person, clad in red and white of the Galalunian army. His head was held high, long nose in line with the point of his white hair. He walked in the stiff, practiced gait of an army man, hands clasped behind his back. He looked up at Corus, blinked and smirked. “Apologies, Princess. Sorry to make you wait so long for a proper royal guard. Petty Officer Baron, at your service.” He bowed low.

“Baron!?”

He shot up at his name, finally seeing Lance standing beside Corus. “Lance? I thought you had died in the invasion.” He paused, “I guess that they had no other choice but send you with the Princess.”

Lance ignored the jab. “How did you survive?” he said.

“I was strong. I fought with the Resistance.” Baron’s eyes were cold steel. “We won, Princess. It’s time for you to come home and restore the succession.”

The armor was silent, but Lance could imagine the gasp that Ilana made inside of it.

Baron seemed to take this silence as agreement. “Excellent. We’ll leave immediately.” He turned, presumably to steer the ship.

“Wait!” Lance called out, “You let civilians on this ship, are we just going to take them with to Galaluna?”

Baron tensed, but gestured to the general area of the ship. “Oh, around. You can find them, I have information to tell the Princess, and the Princess alone.”

“Since you brought him on board, why don’t you find him?”

With this the blond man stopped, finally turning around. “I outrank you, Lance. Don’t argue with me.” Baron said harshly.

Lance glared just as harshly back.

Corus de-materialized in a flash of light. Ilana took a sensible option, leaving the gravity suit on. A blue, skintight covering allowing ease and comfort inside an armor, as well as protection system of its own. A bubble helmet protected her face; as a bonus it could be clouded to protect her identity.

“I outrank both of you.” She turned to one side, “We will all go forward and find Greg. Lance will wait with Greg and take him back with his brother while Baron debriefs me and Octus. We’ll decide what our next move is then.”

Baron smiled and said sweetly, “So glad you see reason, Princess.”

Lance huffed, crossing his arms. Just like old times. “He can’t have gotten that far ahead.” He strode forward into the hallway.

**To be continued…**

The destruction of Galaluna is a direct reference to ‘Escape from Galaluna’, possibly the best episode of Sym Bionic Titan. Go watch it again. Seriously.

-

Greg just flat out screaming when he lost the tooth is a reference to ‘Tome of the Unknown’, the show pilot where he just screamed when he finally found a goose.

-

Petty Officer is a rank in the US marines, roughly two above Lance Corporal. They probably have different ranking system, but I wanted to reference real life, so…Plus Baron is super petty. (Lance Corporal…Corporal Lance, goodness I love punny names.)

**Epilogue**

Greg tumbled and ran through the hallways to his favorite place, a huge cafeteria with a wide circle ceiling and three moons up above, surrounded by stars. He ran past the benches to the row of panels on the other side. “Hey! Turtles! I gotta show you something!” The six year old waved his hand at the window. A panel in the wall drew up without a sound. Behind it was a robot, slick black with a crescent head, square body hidden behind the wall. ‘Turtles’ looked down, focusing their single eye on Greg, then the window opened wider, ledge placing itself at the perfect height.

“Hello Greg. You have yet to locate the captain.”

“That’s okay. My brother’s boyfriend is here, so I think I’m going home soon. But you gotta look at this, Turtles!”

“Composition: over 95% hydroxylapatite. You have lost your tooth. I must send you to the Medical Bay. Please do not lose it; the dentist would like to study it so that he may make you a substitute.”

“I haven’t lost it, it’s right here!” He waved it at the robot again.

“If your tooth has fallen out this easily, you may not be getting proper nutrition. Here.” ‘Turtles’ took his three pronged hand and pressed a keypad. A blue bowl slid into view, and a pipe came from the ceiling. A yellow liquid poured out, steam rising from the bowl as the pipe disappeared. “Nourishing broth. I have refrained from the dried grain rectangles, as they may cause discomfort.”

He put the tooth away in his pocket, “Sounds fair.” then grasped the sides of the bowl, tipping it to his lips. Greg took a sip, then smiled, gulping the broth down easily. It was the perfect temperature, sloshing down into his belly and warming him up from the inside out. He set the bowl down and grabbed at his jacket, making sure that the frog face was visible. “Was that good, Stevenson?” and then imitated a croak. “He he yeah!”

Greg looked up, and the empty cafeteria looked greyer and emptier than before. “Where are all the people?”

There was no answer, so he climbed the little staircase upward towards the stars.


	4. Exposition

**Chapter 4 - Exposition**

Baron led the way, with Ilana behind him and Lance protecting the back. Beyond the short hallway was a huge room filled with rows of benches. Up on the ceiling there were stars, surrounding the Galaluna moon symbol. “Greg! Where are you?” Ilana called.

Wirt and Octus opened a door on the side of the room. “Woah! Greg? GREG WHERE ARE YOU?” Wirt called out. “Lance! Corus! We found someone!” They waved their arms to attract attention. “Uh…Corus…?” Their head tilted in confusion, but quickly shook it, eyes moving directly to Lance. “I thought that you found Greg.”

“He…got away.” The look in their eyes was furious, and Lance had to dodge it.

“What.” Wirt stepped back like he was punched. Their hand gripped a table, “Okay…okay. Did he look alright?”

“Yes. But…he lost a tooth.”

“Oh.” they sighed. “Neat. Does he still have it, or did he drop it…?”

Lance blinked. He thought back and said calmly, “He was holding it.”

“I apologize on behalf of this crew. We will take every action to repair your brother’s tooth.” Baron strode in, confident, separating the two.

“…that’s alright. It’s probably the loose one, it was bound to come out.” Seeing the confused looks, they clarified, “It’s a baby tooth. A permanent one is growing under it and forcing it out. Do you…not do that?” the last part was said quietly.

“…no.” Octus decided to speak for them.

Wirt stilled, eyes widening just a fraction as their heart skipped. Definitely aliens. Wirt sat down, head swimming. Two aliens and they were already out for the count. No, wait…four aliens, they remembered, seeing Octus overlooking the situation with Baron and the now blue Corus kneeling down to talk with Hobbs. At least Lance was from Earth. They felt a pain in their chest radiating down to his shaky hands. First contact, and he was already a mess.

Lance, already familiar to when Wirt got like this, started to move Baron away, closer to the others. He was familiar, so calm and collected in these circumstances. He was even chatting quickly with Octus, getting up to date. Wirt thought so, anyway. The blood rushing through their ears wasn’t letting them hear. Wirt pressed fingers underneath their neck, trying to stave off the incoming headache.

A hand clapped on their shoulder, and they knew it was Lance’s. He was really the only one here that would know how to deal with his anxiety. “Wirt. Calm down. Octus, Corus and Hobbs are going to explain what they can and regroup.”

Indeed, everyone had sat down together on the tables, on the opposite side. Only Lance had crossed over to sit next to him. Earth against…Galaluna, was it? Nice name, it fit with the moon theme. They sighed, tapping their hands together. One two thee, breathe in, one two three, breathe out…

Lance took his hand away, blinked for a second. “Where…did you get that cloak?”

Wirt answered, voice still a little shaky. “Oh! I found it, and Octus programmed it for me. Apparently it’s a medical cloak.”

“Isn’t it for girls?”

  
Wirt made an ungodly noise in the back of his throat. “Lance! These are aliens! Who knows if they have genders we even recognize!” they turned and glared at their friend, anger breaking up the anxious pit in his stomach. Lance was smiling. Oh. That was just a distraction. “…thanks. I’m _really_ glad you’re here.” Wirt said quietly. They grasped at the other’s hand, holding it but not lacing their fingers together.

Hobbs was looking at the scene. Of course, he’s heard tell of Lance. He was military prodigy, precise with his forms but so _passionate_ , often fighting cadets and teachers alike. Keeping his teammate stabilized was…unexpected. Hobbs turned to Octus, “…who is that young woman that was with you?”

Octus hesitated, “That’s a…human. From the planet Earth. Wirt. They’re nonbinary. It’s close to our agender, but the distinction is important to them.”

“So are all humans nonbinary?”

“No, but some are.” He answered back.

“Huh.” The universe still held some surprises.

Octus moved to the center of the tables. “Everyone, please listen. This ship is in orbit around planet Earth, a class 3 planet with one sapient species. Baron had brought Wirt’s brother aboard over an hour ago, Wirt insisted on coming with to take him home.” They held up a hand, a little sheepishly.

Wirt’s eye caught Hobbs and they started to stutter, “Of course, you wouldn’t have seen him, since you’ve been in healing for a month – wait,” they turn to the robot, “Octus, are Earth months the same time as your months? I really don’t want to think that I’ve been gone a day and it’s actually been five years. I’ve read that story, it doesn’t end well.”

“Earth years, months, and days are comparatively similar to those on Galaluna. You will be fine.”

“That’s a relief.”

Baron spoke up, “You’re an Earthling?” he looked them up and down, shocked.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want to call me. Aliens aren’t really…believed in. Or, proven to exist on a global scale,” Wirt started to ramble on, getting faster, “or first contact is happening _now_ and Greg’s a chosen one for some reason and in that case I need to get him _out of here_.” They steadied their breathing, a curious look on their face. “This is sounding like a bad YA novel.”

Lance, Corus, Baron and Ilana looked to Octus to explain. “Like I said, class 3.” He answered.

“How…can she be a human? I surveyed a group of twenty or more! She’s too tall!” the soldier flung his hand toward Wirt. “The Ambassador can’t be the same species as her!”

“What? Ambassador! Greg is like, _six_! He can’t be trusted with interplanetary affairs! He can’t even be trusted with _sharp scissors_!” Wirt stood, confused and angered, furrowing their brow and glaring at Baron. Lance stood up behind them, still holding their hand.

To his credit, the officer immediately turned toward Corus. “Oh…Princess, surely you must have already chosen an Ambassador.” Baron smiled uneasily.

“No. We were staying here as a shelter, making an Embassy would alert everyone to where we were.”

“I…already made the arrangement! He’s been registered as Earth’s Ambassador.”

“That’s how he’s been moving so quickly. Greg has clearance to go anywhere on the ship.” Hobbs said.

“You went over your commander’s head! You even went over Corus’s head! How did you even think that assigning an Ambassador was a good decision?” Lance nearly yelled.

“Commander Hobbs was in critical condition! I had no choice but deal with Earth. I never knew the Princess was alive! I didn’t know that Galaluna’s royal line was in hiding. If I knew that, I would never have-”

“But it _happened_.” Lance folded his arm to his chest. “Something has to be done.”

Wirt piped up, “Look, Earth is obviously not ready for an Ambassador, you can just take back the position! We can go on with our lives, its fine!” They waved their hand and stepped in-between Baron and Lance’s glaring contest.

“No it’s not! Earth has been registered. Moreover, it has been involved in intergalactic affairs more than they should be. We cannot dissolve the position. He has to assign a successor.” Corus said.

“…oh. Well, not _today_ , right?” Wirt reasoned, “I’m pretty sure that you’ve found some trustworthy humans back on Earth. I’ll bring Greg over, you bring age-appropriate snacks, and it’ll be like a playdate.” They blinked. “No wait, you don’t have to do the snacks.”

“That will work. Thank you, Wirt.”

“You’re welcome.”

“That still leaves us the problem of finding the wayward child.”

“If I could get to the mainframe, I could scan the ship for all lifeforms. There is another matter.” Octus specifically turned toward Baron and Hobbs. “Why exactly are you here, officer Baron?”

“Well…the mission was to escort and protect refugees of the Mutraddi attack to a safe system. A group of soldiers lead by Hobbs took our people and this ship away. The Resistance was able to briefly use the Rift Gate and was able to program it to a distant system. This system. We located a suitable planet and the colonists departed, but…there was a mutiny. Mutrad allied soldiers commandeered the ship and locked it onto this planet. Now, I realize, so they could fight the Princess. They were never able to carry out those plans; I had taken over the ship and removed everyone.”

“…removed everyone?” Wirt asked. That was a…peculiar turn of phrase.

“I secured myself in the mainframe room, disengaged the gravity, and opened all of the airlocks.” Baron said calmly.

“…oh.” Wirt answered back. Well. Time to think about that _never_. They started to squeeze their fingers and toes to distract themselves, feeling Lance’s fingers wriggle under theirs in protest. Wirt immediately let go, stepping away from their friend out of habit.

Baron continued, “Beyond that, I kept the ship in orbit. I assumed that this being a known civilization, we had made contact, and set out to locate an Ambassador.”

“Which was actually an underage civilian.” Lance said.

“I told you my reasoning!”

Corus spoke up. “Stop arguing! Lance, calm down. He knows he made a mistake. Baron. Thank you for your story. I think I understand what’s happening. Everyone. We shall locate Greg and the mainframe. Wirt, Lance and Greg shall stay on Earth. Hobbs, Baron, Octus and I will go to the colonies to be sure that they are safe. But we _will_ return here.” The Princesses word was final. “For now, we split up.”

Wirt nodded along, inching closer to Lance. They’re not going through this place without someone to rely on. Besides, humans should stick together, right?

**To be continued…**

(In keeping with the three things motif, Galaluna accepts 3 genders, male, female, and agender. They have biological sexes male and female. Transgender between male and female is accepted, and HRT is commonplace. Agender is considered more of a ‘robot’ or theoretical gender used to keep balance. Any organic identifying as agender is seen as strange, and any robot identifying as male or female is considered to have a malfunction and needs rewiring.

Octus identifies as male.)

About the airlock strategy. I mean, that’s the quickest way to win. It totally fits with Baron’s ‘winner’s first’ mentality. As in, I’m the winner so I’m the only one allowed to win. Remember the final test in episode 8? He and his goonies took out their own teammates when the game started, they just decided that they could do it themselves, even if the only objective was to get the manikin out, wouldn’t it have been easier with other people?

**Deleted Scene**

“What’s this…Tooth Fairy?” Baron prompted.

Wirt gulped, looking at the expectant alien. “It’s a story. Kids lose their teeth, and we tell them that if they put it under their pillow and sleep on it, the Tooth Fairy comes and swaps their teeth for money. Well, it’s usually the parent, but-“

“That sounds ridiculous, what if you get caught?”

“I never said it was perfect, it’s just…what we do.”

“I suppose that would make them less likely to panic, if they have rewards.” Baron hemmed, “I have decided, you will be my guide to Earth.”

“Pfft - What? There’s probably a lot of people more qualified-“

“I’ve made my mind up. This is a wonderful opportunity for you. Don’t you want to be part of history?”

“I-I guess…”

“Then follow me and I’ll make sure you’ll be remembered.”

(That’s half a joke because no one will ever know that Wirt was a part of _anything_ involving aliens. Also in the pilot he and Greg are trying to find a book that holds all the stories that have been forgotten.)


	5. Director's Cut

**Chapter 5 – Director’s Cut**

**(This could have been in the last chapter but it didn’t flow too well. Hobbs would be repeating himself to Ilana and the group and Wirt was going on a long author filibuster. But, Hobbs makes Ilana SO HAPPY i couldn't cut him out.)**

“Ilana?”

“Hobbs?” The sound was unfamiliar. The armor fizzled out, leaving a standard blue skinsuit. A blue tinted face peered out of the bubble helm, then smiled. “You’re alive!” she dropped the helm, bent down and hugged him.

“Princess! How- Why?”

“My people? How are they?”

“Let me get a look at you first. You’re still the same, my dear. After all this time. So, the King’s plan, it worked?”

“Yes. Octus, Lance and I have been living on the planet Earth as its citizens. But a day hasn’t gone by when I’ve thought about my people. How are they?”

Hobbs eyes knitted together. “Our home…is a battlefield. There are still pockets of Mutrad battling it out. It wasn’t safe for anyone. Then, your message came to us, with data and star charts of a distant world, with inhabitable planets. That you were safe. I, a platoon, and citizens of Galaluna left. We hope to return sometime in the future, but the colonies are what we have now.” A sharp pain hit his temple. “Ugh. After landing was a blur.”

“And…my father?”

“Unknown. But if he died, they would have put on a spectacular show. There is still hope.”

“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”

-

Wirt grabbed Lance and headed to a quiet corner. “This is first contact. I mean, Greg was first contact and we’re not even prepared and don’t even have warp drives yet and flipping aliens exist-” he continued until his voice was high and out of breath.

“Wirt.” Lance grabbed at his hands. “What’s wrong? Wasn’t Titan enough of a sign?”

“That was monsters battling it out in the city. That’s temporary. Hobbs was talking about _colonists_. Who’ve already disembarked. That means that there’s a whole community of human looking aliens already on Earth. I have _seen this movie_ , it’s not going to go well.”

“That’s not going to happen."

“We can barely even handle it inside out own countries! I mean, look at all the racism and bull that goes on when a black lead is cast in _Star Wars_! On a grand planetary scale, seriously we don’t even consider women equal! The flying flip are we going to do with aliens?” He gasped, brain finally catching up to his mouth, “Aliens who already have deep space travel. Aliens with freaking _robot armor_ and who’ve created Octus, who is a wonderful person, honestly but _sentient AIs_ holy man we’re fu-”

“WIRT.” Lance clapped a hand over his mouth. “You don’t know that. You’re making assumptions on incomplete information.”

“-dge. Yeah but it’s a lot less likely.”

“Hobbs was in sleep for a month. This ship has FTL. We don’t know if the colonists were dropped on Earth or somewhere else.” Wirt relaxed in his grip. “We’re going to find Greg, and you’re going home. Whatever they want, they’ll take it up with the authorities on this planet. They’re doing this one step at a time. Right now we need to find Greg. They’re going to go over what they know.”

“Right…thanks.”


	6. Rising Action

**Chapter 6 - Rising Action**

Lance pretended not to notice when Wirt couldn’t decide whether to stay away or come closer. They seemed to be embarrassed about squeezing his hand too tight. Lance was fine with holding hands, but he was unsure what to do, seeing Wirt in such a state. Was it because he couldn’t hold on long enough? He’s been learning about humans, maybe holding hands was more of a romantic thing? But what would that mean, with a male and a nonbinary? If Wirt meant it, could he reciprocate? It wasn’t that he _wasn’t_ fond of them, it was a question of what he meant to Wirt.

When Greg was found and they were all safe, Lance would have to ask.

Octus projected another map into the air, “Beyond this room is the Gallery, auditoriums, the training room, and then we should meet again at the Observation Deck. You should be done by the time we have accessed the security footage.”

“Right. Lance, c’mon.” Wirt walked away, cloak fluttering from how quick they were moving.

Lance followed, trying not to watch how well it fit them. Wirt was right about it…a little. Short cloaks were reserved for higher members of the Army, extra armor for valuable commanders of either gender. Longer cloaks, in the circular cut, were for female medical officers. Lance looked around the room, to Ilana, Octus and Hobbs, leaving already. Everyone here had their armor on. Surrounded by all of this, it was easy to fall into the illusion that he was still a part of a battalion.

Baron jumped ahead of their path. “I’m in charge! I have been living in this ship, and I’m the superior officer.” He said, smugly turning his nose upward. “You must follow me.”

And all the headaches that were a part of it. He glared, putting himself in a fighting position between them. Hot anger curled in his gut.

Wirt blinked, “Fine then.” They said flatly.

Baron turned around and walked ahead. Lance grit his teeth and clenched his hands, intending to stomp after him, when Wirt grabbed his arm, forcing them to walk together, “Hey. You’re mad. What’s wrong?” they asked in a quiet voice.

Before he could consider how few times he’s heard those words, Lance spat out, “He doesn’t know what we’ve been through! He didn’t even think about asking if we had relevant information! He thinks that he’s better than us!” He thought he’d said something wrong when Wirt’s face didn’t change into sympathy but it softened, “Why aren’t you mad?”

“I am angry.” It suddenly showed as a fire in their eyes and a purse of their lips. Subtle things that were all Wirt, he realized. They started counting off their fingers. “He didn’t apologize for thinking I was a woman, he chose an official without even going through laws. He thought _Greg_ was an _adult_. Baron is an idiot.” Wirt said firmly. “Why do you care so much about what he thinks? Does what he think really affect what we actually are?”

“No.”

“Exactly. If it makes him happy to lead, fine.” They shrugged, “Greg is still getting out of here.” And the anger melted off of them like snow on an exhaust panel. The grip on his arm lessened, but Lance still kept pace with his friend.

“Part of being a group is that we stick together. Or does that mean something different on your planet?” Baron said, looking back at them. “Anyway. There’s four auditoriums on this level. In order to make time, we should split apart. We shall all meet at this hallway when we’re done.”

“Okay.” Wirt agreed. Lance nodded with them and made sure that Wirt went to his auditorium before starting his search.

He purposely looked at Baron, then used a particular human gesture, pointing at his own eyes and then at the rival with a glare.

The blonde glared right back, no doubt irritated.

He didn’t care.

Lance stepped into the wide auditorium, starting to yell. “Greg? Greg, I know you’re playing hide and seek, but the game is over! You need to go home!” He felt the echo in the huge space. The entrance was near the stage, he could see to the back of the room easily. There were rows upon rows of seats, and Greg was a slippery youngling. A seed of hopelessness started in his chest, but he pushed past it. “Greg! Call out to me if you’re there!” he shouted again.

Lance continued to shout every so often, even as he bent down to check underneath the seats. Nothing, not even a tablet pen was underneath. He frowned, finally understanding his discomfort. This ship, though it held a colony, felt barely lived in. It was frustrating to expect other students around the corner but then nothing. Lance could almost hear the tapping of feet on the catwalk above the stage. He stretched up, looking at the bridge.

No, wait. There _was_ someone on that catwalk! He could see a small shadow there. “Greg?” Lance started to run, jumping up onto the ladder quickly. There the child was, sitting down on the edge of the catwalk, kicking his legs in the open air.

Greg smiled as he approached, “Hey Lance! You found me!”

“Yes, Greg, I did. We need to leave right now. Wirt and I have been looking for you.”

“Ok. But first you gotta tell me a secret that Wirt told you. That’s how I know he sent you.”

“Enoch is the mayor of Pottsfield. That’s what he said to tell you.” Whatever nonsense that was. “That’s a secret, right?” He knelt down, holding his hand outward.

Satisfied, Greg pulled himself from the edge, patting his knees as if he was dusting off. “Yeah, Wirt doesn’t tell people too much about our time in Pottsfield. Did you know that they’re all skeletons?” he declared, grabbing at Lance’s hand. It was small and determined, somehow sharp against his skin.

Lance tried to answer back, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yup! Enoch and the villagers grow pumpkins and wheat and corn and squash and a whole bunch of things for their costumes! And they dress up for harvest time and dig up their pals and give them costumes so they can dance too!” Greg waved his free arm around. They reached the ladder and started to go down.

“That’s sounds nice. Where is Pottsfield?”

“The Unknown. You can’t get there any old way. You gotta get really sleepy first and then wanna go there really bad! Sometimes it doesn’t work…but sometimes I come back with a great story to tell Wirt!” Lance waited as Greg reached the bottom. He grabbed his hand without hesitation. “This is going to be a good story for Wirt too!”

“Greg. You can’t tell anyone what’s happened here. People aren’t prepared to know about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because…it’s scary.”

“That’s why I gotta tell them! So they can talk about being scared.”

“No! No one can know about this, Greg!” Lance knelt down, putting his hand on Greg’s shoulders. “You can’t tell your parents, or your friends, or anyone! If you tell anyone, the Princess is in danger, then your whole town is in danger, and your planet will be noticed by people that are very dangerous.”

“My planet?”

“Yes!” Lance started moving again, gently pulling Greg along. “The universe is so much bigger than you realize! It’s so much bigger than parents and the Academy, the Royal Guard…”

“…you-” Greg gasped, “Of _COURSE_!” he shouts. Then he did some quick wriggling and ran, leaving Lance holding his jacket. His little backpack fell too, and he stopped to pick it up.

“Greg!” he tried running after him, but the child dived under the chairs and squirmed, crossing the room in record time. He darted through the open door and disappeared, out of sight. The soldier never stopped moving, shoving Greg’s things under his armpit and giving chase. Lance made it to the hallway, chest heaving. He looked at the doors for any movement, but they were all closed. It wasn’t a problem, he couldn’t have gone far. Lance strained his ears for any movement, any clue.

A door opened, and Baron stepped through, holding it open for Wirt, who followed. He was talking directly to them, peering down his nose even though they were nearly the same height. “I’ve made my mind up. This is a wonderful opportunity for you. Don’t you want to be part of history?”

Wirt looked away, bunching the fabric of their cloak. “I-I guess…”

“Then follow me and I’ll make sure you’ll be remembered.” The officer looked around, eyes landing on him. “Wirt and I decided on searching the last room together.” Baron said primly.

“Baron finished his room early. He decided to come help me.” Wirt admitted defiantly. His friend was usually quiet, content to let others speak around them. But their face wasn’t in the attentive neutral that Lance saw in high school, it was something else.

He was taken back to when they first met, when Lance needed help with the Poetry cell of their education. Kimmy recommended a fellow classmate in their grade. Of course, Wirt had been nervous then, when they had met. But once Lance had admitted to not understanding, they got to work. A poem Lance had found on the internet was actually a strange thing called a meme. Wirt grabbed a textbook from one of the earlier grades and skimmed through it.

_“It’s no problem, this will actually be better, you can take from their interpretations.”_

_“What! No, I can’t do that…it’s cheating!”_

And Wirt just paused and stared, eyes a little wide from wonder, brow quirked in confusion, lips parted as if they wanted to talk, but wasn’t sure how to start. They had the same expression from then, right now.

What did Baron tell them?

Lance was pulled back to reality, remembering how he must look. “I almost had him, he slipped away.” The words bit his tongue as he let them out.

Baron’s tone was pleased, “Almost isn’t good enough, cadet.”

Fire burned in his gut as he saw his smug face. “I’m not your cadet.”

Wirt stepped away from him, finally taking Greg’s jacket and backpack from the floor. “It’s fine,” they said calmly, “at least he can’t pull the same trick again. C’mon Lance he can’t-” They reached out to Lance, then stopped, arm partially covered by the cloak. Hesitant, they looked him up and down, then made an anxious ‘hmm’ sound.

“We need to move!” Baron shouted. Wirt turned away quickly at that, frightened at the noise.

Lance glared at him, feeling another hot bubble of anger come up his throat. He followed after Wirt, trying to catch up to them.

**To be continued…**

(Lance is starting to crush I guess. And Youngling is from Star Wars.)

(Baron talking about being remembered is half a joke because no one will ever know that Wirt was a part of _anything_ involving aliens. Also in the pilot he and Greg are trying to find a book that holds all the stories that have been forgotten.)

**Epilogue…or Flashback where Greg and Baron met**

Greg looked back at the school, then back into the forest. He had his backpack and jacket, but mean Mrs. Pleats took his phone. He was only trying to investigate!

He’s gotta get over this fear of the forest…He’s six, shouldn’t he be living life to the fullest and not be scared of anything?

At least, that was his reasoning.

Facing that robot seemed like a good deal. Greg stepped into the woods, following the deep treads. His hand dipped into his pocket, and he dropped a small golden candy on the ground. Can’t get lost in the woods, not again.

-

“Yes, come here, your highness. You’re going to meet with our princess.”

He grabbed a handful of candies, dropping them as a trail. Wirt would find them, he’d know what to do.

-

“Good. This native ‘princess’ will help me lure my own.”

“Princess? I’m not a princess. I’m a sweet little boy!”

“What? Oh never mind! She wouldn’t leave an innocent alone.”

“Do you wanna hear a Rock Fact? Did you know birds fly south because that’s where their timeshares are?”

“I’m leaving.”

“And I’m coming with you!” Greg gasped, looking around. “Spaceship!”

“Yes, Greg, we’re on a space ship. How about we play a game?”

“Hide and seek?”

“Yes.”

“Ok! I’ll hide first!”

(Greg knows that Baron was trying to get rid of him, that’s okay because SPACESHIP.)


	7. Falling Action

**Chapter 7 Falling Action**

Wirt heard Lance’s footsteps right behind them. They walked even faster, not bothering to look back. They clutched their fingers around Greg’s things, speedwalking. Their anxiety was a gift, sometimes, when they wanted to think about someone strange.

Baron was…dumb. Why would he want Wirt to be his personal translator? Was it just convenience, since he was the only human around? Other than Lance, who argued with Baron at every turn. Corus should already have a translator, Baron could just use them. Unless. Something happened, or Baron thinks something will happen. This is very troubling.

And Lance. Wirt knows he’s had problems with authority, especially ones that talk down to him. They remembered Lance telling them about a military academy, about the uncaring teachers and the harsh environment. Baron was probably dredging up terrible memories for him. If Wirt took the job, that means Baron would be hanging around, and Lance would stop being his friend. Wirt didn’t want that. But they can’t speak up now. Not when Greg was still lost.

They found the recreation room. It was a large, oval shaped area, with an incredibly high, rounded ceiling. Like a cathedral. In front of them were strange machines, all grouped together in the corner.

“Ah! The recreation room! This is perfect!” Baron’s voice boomed in the empty space. “There’s only one exit and entrance!”

“Greg! Greg could you please come out! We have to go home!” Wirt called out. A little shout echoed them, and one of the racks of balls moved toward the pile of other equipment.

“What happened here?” Lance stepped further in, to the barrier. There were racks of strange items, like lacrosse poles, tennis rackets, and hockey sticks. They were pushed together in a semi-circle.

Wirt peered in. Greg was in the middle, pulling the racks of play equipment further into the corner, trapping himself. “Greg! I’m so glad you’re okay! What are you doing?”

“I gotta save myself!”

“From what?” Wirt asked, looking further in. They had to know if his brother was hurt. Greg was moving okay, maybe a little out of breath, but that was only because of moving the equipment. Wirt hoped that was the case.

Lance found a hole as well. “Greg, we have to get you out! You have to go home!” He tried reaching in, but there was too much in the way.

The little boy startled, moving back against the wall. “Ahh! Wirt! No! Wirt don’t trust them! They’re bluebirds! Baron and Lance are bluebirds!”

“What?” Lance and Wirt said at the same time.

“It doesn’t matter, you have to go home with Wirt!” Lance tried again, but Greg shied away.

A part of Wirt’s heart broke, first at seeing Greg so terrified, and at his friend who was refused. It didn’t make sense. Bluebird was part of a code that the brother’s made up, after the Unknown. It meant that the person they were talking about seemed nice, but was actually trying to hurt them. What did Greg see that scared him like that? Wirt needed to do something, or they’d never get him out.

“Lance.” They put a hand on their friend’s shoulder. “You’re scaring him. Please step away. I’ll take care of Greg.”

Lance’s mouth tensed, but he nodded. “I understand.” He said softly before leaving them be.

Wirt was suddenly overcome with relief. They smiled, “Thank you. Tell everyone that we found him, it’s just going to take a little time to get him out.” Wirt turned their attention to Greg. “Okay, I’m right here, Greg.” They sat down. “Do you want Bernard?” Wirt presented the frog jacket to his brother.

“Oh boy do I!” a little hand reached out and pulled it into the enclosed space. “Mmm, missed you Bernard.” The first grader quickly put him on, snuggling up in the green fabric and hugging the cartoon face. His face focused on Wirt, eye bright. “Missed you too, brother o’ mine!”

“Same here, candypants.” They dug around for the butterscotch candy from earlier. “Did you leave this for me?”

Greg’s eyes lit up, “Aww yeah! Candy trail!” His smile suddenly dropped. “Wirt! There’s an alien behind you!” he pointed.

Baron suddenly appeared next to them. “I know, Greg.” Wirt moved to shield his brother. “What do you want, Baron?”

The soldier sneered. “How long is this going to take?”

“Greg’s not coming out until he wants to. You hovering is not going to help. Go – go over by the entrance or something.” Wirt dismissed him.

“This is wasting time.”

Funny words coming from the person who put Greg in this mess; Wirt immediately thought. But they bit their tongue, saying blandly, “Not really. It’s what we came here to do.”

“I have a higher purpose.”

“I’m sure it can wait. Now please leave us alone.” Wirt matched the authoritative tone, waving their hand again.

Baron turned on his heel and strode away, closer to Lance. He opened up a panel, and said something that Wirt was too far away to hear.

"Younglings like this trick anyway."

A humming noise surrounded them. They felt it in their feet first, like a weight was lifted. Their cloak rose, and Wirt saw Greg feel it too. The child gasped, long and loud as his defenses rose up with him. His little brown hair fluttered, his hands rose up and up to the ceiling.

They were floating. It felt just like...Wirt couldn't finish the thought. The room grew ice cold, their vision swam, phantom memories blurring their senses. The equipment parted, and Wirt could see Greg’s feet kicking and hands flapping for a something to hang onto.

Of course Greg remembered it too. His little brother’s eyes welled up with tears. Greg screamed in pure terror, the sound shattering the silence.

It tore a hole in Wirt’s heart. Suddenly the fear was put aside, and desperation took over Wirt’s thoughts. They dug in the air, pulling rack after rack of equipment away. They had to reach him, “Greg! Greg hold on I’m coming!” they shouted.

Greg pushed himself upwards, not understanding. He flailed his arms, body slowly rising up and up.

Wirt flailed as well. They tried reaching for him, but he rose out of grasp. Their legs pumped uselessly under him before catching a floating rack. Wirt shot upward, catching him and holding him close. They somersaulted in the air, floating safely. "I got you out of the unknown, I'll get you out of here." Wirt babbled.

Greg dug his face into their chest. They rubbed his back, humming a little. Puddles rose up. "What?" Wirt softly asked. Globs of liquid floated around, not bound to gravity. Greg emerged, sniffling while another blob was stuck under his eye. Wirt carefully wiped it away. It stuck to their finger. Greg giggled as Wirt tried to flick it off.

They hugged Greg close and laughed with him, happy tears floating in the air. "Let's get back down to Earth." Wirt looked around. They weren't high up. The walls had ridges in them, probably for this purpose. They dived for it. "Okay. Just think of it like swimming. Mid-air." Wirt maneuvered Greg so that he was piggyback on them.

"Look at Lance!" They turned around and could see him and Baron fighting. They were sailing gracefully in the air, throwing racks and words at each other. “He’s mean, but he’s kicking meaner Baron’s butt! Ha hah!” Greg mimed the fight.

Wirt’s head tilted, looking back at his brother, “Why do you think Lance is mean?”

“He’s been lying to you. Lying is bad, I think.” He put a hand under his chin, “That’s why I had to get him away from you! He’s a bad influence!”

Wirt blinked, thinking to themself about where he got that idea from. They flinch from another shout from the fighters. Baron, of course! He’s been trying this whole time to turn them against Lance. They don’t know why, but that’s unforgivable! Wirt looked back at his brother, “Thanks for trying to protect me. Some lying is unavoidable, but it’s okay, you’ll understand it more about it when you see it more.”

“So does that mean Lance is good?” Greg asked.

Wirt tried saying yes, but they rethought. “It just means I need to speak with him when we get home. He’s okay for now.”

“Yessir, Wirt!” Greg giggled. “Look out!” a rack of equipment flew at them. Wirt had to let go of the wall quickly to avoid it.

They free-floated a little, before Wirt copied Lance’s movements. “I hope they’re doing alright down there.” They mumbled, reaching another set of embedded steps.

-

"Younglings like this trick anyway."

Baron opened up a panel in the wall. Lance kept being silent, glad that Wirt was keeping his brother safe. He didn’t realize that Baron did until he felt it. His body never forgot the weightless feeling of zero gravity. Baron immediately went after his friend. A surge of protectiveness came upon Lance. He dived after Baron, able to grab onto his waist.

A scream rang out, and Lance could feel Wirt’s anguished shouting in his heart. “You did this!” Lance tightened his grip on Baron. “They told you not to go near them!”

There was a yelp and Baron squirmed in his grasp. A rack, tossed away by Wirt, collided with them, breaking the two apart. Baron refocused his attention, looking down his nose at Lance, "You just can't let me win, can you?"

Lance felt his stomach clench, his eye light up, determination flowing through him. "You're not going to hurt Greg anymore.”

"And you think you aren't?” Baron scoffed, waving his hand them, “Look at them!" Indeed, Wirt and Greg were flailing, unused to the zero gravity. “They need a professional, not a fill-in!”

Lance didn’t say anything, but he moved to block Baron’s path to his friends.

Baron’s eyes narrowed, “You're getting in the way again! You never belonged here!"

“It’s your fault for bringing him! You haven’t helped once!” He flung himself at Baron, aiming to punch.

But the petty officer dodged, sneering. “Going against a superior officer? This is treason, Lance!”

“If there’s a traitor here, it’s you!” Lance kicked a rack in Baron’s way, but he somersaulted over it.

“You’re the one being difficult! If you just take orders, you wouldn’t have to be the screw-up!” Baron mocked. “There will be consequences! The Princess will hear of this!”

“And what are the consequences for traumatizing the Earth Ambassador and his brother?”

“Less than the ones for threatening a Royal Officer.” Baron used his momentum to slam Lance into a wall. He grinned, breathing harshly.

A sudden power came through him, the feeling of protection, of pure righteousness put his anger into words. “You aren’t one yet. And you never will be.” Lance twisted his arms and flung himself down to the floor. Then his feet pushed off the ground and he punched up, hitting Baron straight in the chest.

“Foolish!” Baron grabbed him by his shirt and Lance repeated the action, tugging at his lapels. Suddenly, their actions held weight. The soldiers slowly moved down to the ground. They heard a coughing noise, and directed their attention to Wirt, who was standing by the open panel.

They had their arms crossed and an irritated look on their face. Greg mimicked them, somehow looking like a goofy miniature of his brother. “Are you done?” they asked.

Baron recovered first, taking his hands off of Lance’s shirt. “Of course! Lance was impatient so I had to stop him before he interrupted you.”

“He’s lying!” Lance’s hands tightened further. He looked at the impassive Wirt, suddenly aware how bad this really was.

“I don’t care. Let go of him.” Lance’s fingers grew slack. “Baron. Get away from him.” They said flatly.

“Wow, you sound like Mom.” Greg commented.

“I wouldn’t have to, if they were behaving!”

Baron preened, standing at attention, while Lance’s head tilted to the floor. Lance was the aggressor here, the odd one out. Bile rose in his throat. Fine. He’s been a troublemaker all of his life; It was the same story, every damn-

Someone grabbed his hand. “Hey.” Wirt was in front of him, smiling softly. “Let’s forget this and go home, yeah?” Their hands cradled his. Lance searched for any sign of deception, but he couldn’t find it.

Something tentative flickered in his chest; hope, maybe? “Yeah.” He answered breathlessly back.

A shriek came from Baron, "You're actually taking his side!?!" his hands suddenly clenched by his sides, ready to attack.

"Why wouldn't I? He's my friend." They said it so calmly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Wirt subtly moved to guard Lance, stepping in-between them.

"He's also an alien!" Greg piped up. The six-year-old beamed, tugging on Wirt’s cloak.

Lance didn’t have an answer for him. He’d prepared for a sudden accusation. He’d prepared for silence, or a quick escape, but this. Outed by a little kid like he was talking about the weather!

“What.” They turned to Greg, voice suddenly wavering. “What. How-no.” They started to shake their head. Wirt looked at Lance, brows furrowed.

Baron took his chance. “He's been lying to you the entire time! How can you trust him?”

Wirt immediately snapped back to Baron. Their voice raised again, fists clenching in anger. "What does it matter? I've been talking with non-humans all day!” They flung their hands upward, “Who cares! I've got Greg, we're going home!” They started walking away, trying to take Lance’s hand and his brother’s at the same time. They leaned into Lance, trying to discreetly speak with him. "This jerk has been trying to turn me against you all day. But I can be a real stubborn jerk myself.” They smirked.

Lance was struck silent, dumbly being pulled along. “Really?” he quietly said. Wirt was going to stand beside him? They weren’t going to question this? Or worry?

“But Wirt!” Greg tried.

Wirt looked down at Greg, "Not another word about it! Playtime is over, we're only going to talk about normal things like what you want for a snack, the tooth fairy, and what lies we're gonna tell Mom and your Dad-”

“You don’t believe me.” Baron said. “He deserted the Galalunian Military months ago, when the Mutraddi attacked.”

Before Lance could even protest, Wirt clicked his tongue. They brought Greg and his hands together, connecting them before stepping backward and turning to face Baron.

Seeing the opportunity, Baron, tried again. “He’s been nothing but trouble on this trip, he let Greg get away twice!”

Wirt raised an eyebrow. “Wow. You know, that is bad. But wait.” They glared, “You put Greg on this ship in the first place. You let him out of your sight. You scared him with the gravity thing. It’s almost like,” they waved their fingers, thinking aloud, “You’re trying to make everyone else look bad so that you look good.”

Baron sputtered, prepared speech utterly demolished.

“The throne isn’t worth it if it’s made up of all the people you stepped on to get there. C’mere Greg.” Wirt knelt down and let Greg clamber up on his back. They shot Lance a smile. “We’re going home."

"Well, it seems like you've made your choice. The wrong one, clearly.” Baron grew still, voice threatening. He uncovered a watch from underneath his gloves. The racks around him started to float, and Lance could feel the zero gravity effects again. “No more being nice."

"That was nice??" Greg asked, trying to hold onto Wirt’s neck as he started to float.

Baron swiftly tossed a rack between Lance and the brothers, making them separate. The soldier then took the nearby equipment and started flinging them up above their heads. Then just as quickly, his hand flicked to his watch, and the heavy racks paused right above Wirt and Greg’s heads.

The two only had a split second to move. But Wirt was too inexperienced. It was all they could do to look upward, then lock eyes with Lance. Pure, blind panic was in their eyes only for a moment.

Then the moment ended, and the racks came down upon them with a final thud.

“No!” Lance landed on the ground too heavy and he tried digging through the heavy racks. Blood rushed in his ears, he couldn’t hear anything. His voice was repeating, “No, not again, please!”  Not again, not like Newton. He was blinded by tears and didn't register the quick footsteps behind him until it was too late.

Pain shot though him, radiating from a point in his back. He fell down, twitching, the aftershocks affecting his muscles.

A kick left him squirming on his back, gazing up at Baron. "I got rid of another one of your friends. Oh well. She wouldn't miss you.” His easy smile vanished into a frown. “You were never good at keeping people around anyway." Seeing as Lance couldn't speak, Baron continued, "too weak, too little, too late. The royal family of Galaluna were always like that, I see it now. It's time to cut them out."

It almost didn’t register at first. His mind went back to Ilana, her sweetness and tenacity. Baron is wrong about her. Lance fought through the pain and tried grappling Baron’s legs. “I won’t let you!” The blond only sneered and kicked him again, making him face a hole in the pile of racks.

There was a brief flicker, a flash of gold buttons, moving underneath the darkness.

Baron picked him up by his shirt, making him stand on unsteady legs. He brandished a stick, black, with a burning, bright white end. "Mutraddi made. Bypasses the undersuit systems. You'll die. I'll win. What more is there to say, cadet?”

“I’m not your cadet.” He grunted, putting forth all of the venom and hurt he could muster.

Baron sneered as if he heard something mildly amusing. “You weren’t anything at all.” Then he jammed the stick into his abdomen. A scream bubbled up from his throat as pain ripped through him.

Everything went white. Then it all went dark.


	8. Clean Pretty Reliable

**Chapter 8 – Clean Pretty Reliable**

“That was nice?” Greg said. Wirt was about to gently scold him, but he was distracted. Suddenly a shadow was upon them.

Their heart felt like it stopped. Their head was reeling. Baron tried to kill them! Where's Lance? Wirt thanked Octus for the cloak. Wirt was barely able to cover Greg as the racks came down. Now they were surrounded by them. Greg was underneath, shaken. Wirt pressed a finger to their lips to shush him.

They crawled over to a hole, following the light. But stopped when they saw two pairs of shoes. A horrid shout came through the air. Wirt saw Lance’s body hit the floor, writhing. Greg squirmed his way under him, and they gripped him tight, trying to cover his ears. Wirt saw Lance being picked up, and heard a faint voice.

“You weren’t anything at all.”

They didn’t have time to contemplate, because there was another terrible scream. Greg fidgeted in his arms and Wirt held tight, like he was a teddy bear. Outside was a nightmare. They inhaled, counted to three, and then exhaled. They peered out the hole, only able to see a bit of the floor, and Lance, unmoving. Wirt strained their ears for a sound, and they heard a whoosh, when the door to the recreation room was closed.

They loosened their grip on their brother. “Wirt! That hurt!” Greg rubbed his ears. “We gotta get out of here!”

“Uh-huh.” They crawled out of the racks and into the light, staying down. Wirt didn’t trust their legs.

They stayed close to Lance, but their eyes wandered when they got too close. Wirt tapped Lance’s feet, looking for a reaction. They pressed his fingers to Lance’s wrist, hoping for something, anything. It was too hard for them; Wirt’s hands shook before they could get a pulse. Tears started blurring their vision.  He was too still, he couldn’t be-

“Baron knocked ‘im out, right?” Greg broke their thoughts. They could always count on him to be distracting.

“Yes.” A thought came through. They weren’t sure, and it was a long shot, but it was the only shot.

“Does that make him bad?”

“Yes. Yes it does.” That makes him dangerous. Very dangerous. Everyone else on this ship could get hurt, like Lance. The pain in his gut solidified. They put their hands on Greg’s shoulders. “Listen. I want you to go find help.”

“You mean that gold princess lady that was with Lance?”

“Yes. Tell her that Baron hurt Lance and Wirt’s trying to heal him. _Make_ them come back here. Don’t let Baron see you.”

“I’m gonna be the hide and seek champion!”

The only response was a tired, “Yeah.” They wrapped their arms around him, one more time. “Love you, Greg.” They pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Aww, you too brother o’ mine!” Greg smooshed his face on their cheek. “Mwah!” and in an instant, he ran out the door.

Once, Greg was gone, Wirt had to focus on Lance. He was paler than usual, his fluffy hair matted with sweat. He wasn’t moving, Wirt didn’t see his chest rising. He could really be-they couldn’t finish the thought. Their lips wibbled, they blinked away tears. “Please, let this work.” They’re on a spaceship! They have to have something, even for humans!

"Please. Okay.” Wirt went over their training. They rearranged Lance so he was flat on his back, and his chin was pointed upward, to open his airway. “Airway, check. Safe area.” They looked over the empty room. “C'mon. Greg get back soon. I can only buy him some time." They put their hands on his chest, one on top of the other, fingers laced. "One. Two. Three." And pressed his hands down, two inches deep.

For a second, Wirt worried if this wasn’t right. Lance’s body reacted, sure, but only as reflex. Well. Their CPR instructor did say “Either they need it, or they’ll start yelling at you when they don’t.”

They went further and kept counting under their breath until they reached thirty, and suddenly realized the next step. “Oh.” Wirt knelt down, making sure Lance’s head was tilted correctly. Then they pinched his nose, and sealed their lips over his, keeping an eye on his chest. They breathed out, filling Lance’s lungs. Wirt came back up, reading themselves for the next part. “There’s not AED here, so-" He pressed again, hoping that the oxygen he gave would be pumped because he was pressing at the heart. He kept going, stopping every thirty beats to give him air.

These repetitive actions gave Wirt time to think, too actually look at Lance. His eyes were closed, and his face was slack. Peaceful, when Wirt could rarely remember a time when he wasn’t doing something. Now he couldn’t do anything. Their eyes swam with tears, and they started to babble. “Please, you can’t go yet! I didn’t even-“

Wirt pressed harder, and thought they felt a break. Suddenly, a beeping noise came from nearby. A bright light surrounded Lance, and Wirt’s hands were pushed back. When they looked again, Lance was in a skintight blue suit. His face was surrounded with a bubble, a cloudy sky blue. “Lance! Please!” Wirt touched the suit, surprised to find it warm. They saw his chest rise, slowly, up and down. “Huh. He looks just like Corus.” Wirt said. Realization struck. They say back down and cradled their head in their hands.

“oh.”

**To be continued…**

**Alternate Reunion Scene**

“Wirt?”

“Greg!” It was like the whole world narrowed down to his little brother. They ran towards each other, Wirt kneeling down and scooping Greg up into his arms. The cloak nearly covered them both. “Are you alright?” he said, not even waiting for an answer and checking him over. He took Greg’s head and kissed it for good measure.

“Woah! You got your cloak back? I thought that you left it in the graveyard!”

“Well, Octus got me this new one, but the resemblance is uncanny.” Wirt draped the cloak around his hands, spreading it out. Greg immediately dived under one arm, popping up underneath the other. Wirt wrapped his arms around his little brother, hugging him tight.

Lance couldn’t find the will to separate them, but Baron did. “Ambassador, please. We must get you off the ship at once.”

“Ambassador!”

“Oh! That’s me!” Greg waved his hand.

“What? He’s not old enough for that! How could you _possibly_ think he’s old enough?”

“He was chosen by his people!”

“The kids in the class didn’t wanna go after him. But I did!”

“Greg! That’s dangerous!”


	9. Callback

**Chapter 9 - Callback**

Lance rose up, and started walking. He kept going, until he realized he was in a forest. The soft underbrush made a crackling noise under his shoes. "Where am I?" He thought aloud, hearing his voice echo in the quiet. He walked further, looking at the stars for guidance. The single moon was half full, but the stars were too many and unfamiliar.

Lance kept going. He heard someone before he saw them. In a clearing, on a stump was a girl with bright red hair, holding an embroidery ring. Brown eyes barely flicked up from her work. "You're not meant for here. Go home." Beside her was a frog, who croaked kindly.

"Where's here?"

"Pssh. This is the Unknown. But you don't have time. I'm saving you the trip. Go home, tell Wirt hello."

"Wirt?" Suddenly his head hurt. The calm fog was overtaken by pain. "Who says?"

"Oh, just a little bluebird!" She smiled, showing off her embroidery. It was three figures of two children and a bird. Her voice was pinched, face slowly getting redder.

"Who?"

The girl growled, "It's Beatrice, fool!" She stood up and shoved him out of the clearing. "Don't come back until you're good and dead, ya hear?"

Lance stumbled, suddenly remembering how he got there. There was a sudden pain in his chest, rhythmic, like his heart was bursting. He fell over and wound up on his back. He wanted so desperately to stay alert, to get back to Wirt. But he closed his eyes, only hearing his harsh breathing.

He couldn't move. His limbs were sleep numb, relaxed by his side. Even his breathing was slow and deep. Lance twitched his fingers, trying to get out of the paralysis. A sudden soreness came on his chest. The undersuit felt it and hardened, preventing movement to ease the healing.

He started to hear something else. A soft voice, from far away.

"Oh. Oh wow. Look Wirt, you gotta be overreacting! Lance can't be an alien. He's the most straightforward guy I know, there's no way he's lying that much. But Baron was really sure he knew him. He got really mad, too. If he's a Galalunian, easy way to tell." Then a few quick steps away. “What…how…?”

His arm twitched, trying to reach out and it was caught. Lance forced his eyes open.

Wirt was right there. Their eyes were threatening to spill over, cheeks covered in tear tracks. Their form shook, and Wirt quickly blinked and wiped their face. "Lance?" And their voice was soft. Hopeful.

It was confusing.

"Why are you crying?" his voice was raspy.

"You're okay! Well you're not okay. But you're mostly okay!"

With a sinking feeling, Lance realized they knew. They knew he’d been lying to them, that he wasn’t a human. There was a million ways this could go wrong, each of them spurring him into action. Lance pushed himself up, ignoring the pain in his chest. He forces the bubble helmet down, wanting Wirt to look at him. "I'm not going to hurt you!" Please, let them understand. They have to know.

Wirt’s hands sternly pressed him back down. “You think you can hurt me right now?” Confusion twisted their features. “Lay down, you can’t do anything!”

Lance tried, but Wirt was stronger for now. "Let me up! We have to save Ilana!"

"Then call for help! Your watch is a phone, right? Call Newton, or Octus. Whatever he wants to be called. Just stay down!" they said, voice rising in pitch and worry.

"Oh." Lance stopped, “Umm. Hold on.” He raised the bubble helmet again, letting the inner screen appear. “Call Newton.” The dial tone was a strange piece of normalcy. As soon as Newton picked up, he spoke. “Baron is a traitor. Don't let him near Ilana. He'll kill her."

Newton immediately replied back, “Understood. Are you alright?”

Lance ignored that, focusing on the important information. "Don't engage in a fair fight. He doesn’t play fair. Watch out for his stick taser. He’s more skilled than all of us. Avoid him or trap him.”

“Do not engage, or engage with minimal risk to self and Ilana.” Newton repeated. “Your status?” he asked again.

“Still breathing in the rec room. Wirt is with me, we’ll catch up with you in the mainframe.”

“Good. See you later.”

“See you later.”

The call clicked off. Lance almost wanted to look at the data from his watch. His suit should have a record of body vitals, but the thought made his stomach turn. Whatever Baron did, it wasn’t good. But whatever Wirt did, it triggered his healing undersuit. Lance kept the bubble helmet on, but unclouded it so Wirt could see his face.

Wirt was staring into space, distracted, but once they noticed Lance, they started to speak. “So...when Baron and Greg were talking about you being an alien…they weren’t trying to be funny. You’re – really, an alien.”

Lance’s eyebrow raised and he tried to respond but Wirt sighed and said, “Ilana is in the armor, isn’t she? And Octus is Newton, somehow.” Wirt’s eyes fall, smiling a little, “Huh. No wonder why you were so comfortable coming up here.”

“No! It’s not like that…I never meant to hurt you when lying. We needed to protect ourselves.”

“I know that, okay!” Brown eyes snap back to Lance, suddenly furious, “It’s just…I need a second.” They said, quiet. “So, what do I call you? Is it something I can even pronounce? Prince Lance? Or is Lance even your real name?”

Why were they treating this like some kind of puzzle? His instinctual anger flared up. Lance grabbed his cloak, pulling himself upward and into Wirt’s face. "What. Why are you like this? I've been lying to you!"

Wirt grabbed his hands, covering them. “You might not be human, but you’re the same guy I text when I can’t sleep.” They said, voice going soft. Wirt matched every ounce of his anger with determination. “I’m not going to just hate you because you kept that big a secret from me. It’s not like you _want_ to talk about your whole planet going through a war, or that you’re also one part of a giant robot that defends the Earth from monsters. How would you even start that conversation anyway? ‘Hey, so I’m actually an alien prince who just so happens to look human and I-’”

“I’m not a prince. I was just in the right place and time to protect Ilana.”

“Oh.” Redness started to come up to Wirt’s cheeks. “Well. I’m glad she has such a dedicated guard.”

“She needs me. I can’t stay here for long.” His undersuit was already dispensing numbing medicine. It would slow down his healing later, but he’s the only one who can face Baron. “Let me up.”

Wirt’s voice was in a panic. "What! You just died, you can't fight him again!" Wirt kept their hand on his shoulder, forcing him down.

"I have to. No one else can face him. He'll kill everyone."

"You're in no shape to fight. He'll kill you first."

Why couldn’t Wirt understand, it had to be this way. "Then fine! Ilana can get away. It doesn't matter." He never mattered, he was just another soldier.

Wirt grabbed his hand. "I know you don't care. But I do! So do Ilana and Newton. You can't just go! What are you going to do, talk him to death?” they gestured down to his injured body. “This is ridiculous!"

Lance reconsidered his injuries. "I...you're right." He conceded.

Wirt sighed in relief.

"If anyone has a chance to get away, I need a plan."

Their eyes snapped open. "What!"

“Give me your cloak.”

“No. You’re going to be reckless with it.” Wirt said primly.

“Would you like me to be reckless with protection or without protection?”

Their mouth pursed and eyes narrowed. “Fine.” Wirt’s hands deftly unfastened the cloak from their shoulders.

Lance sat up, ignoring the pain. He smoothed the cloak out on the floor, giving it a wide surface area. He felt along the seams, looking for something. “There!” Lance pressed the switch. A screen appeared in the fabric of the cloak.

“Woah.” Wirt said.

“I know.” Lance said. “What do we have?” he flicked through the options. There wasn’t much power in the cloak, it could only generate a few things. “He's going to fight Ilana, we can't risk hitting her. We have to distract him long enough. An honorable duel should do it. Swords only."

Wirt balked, "Honor? He killed you with a dirty trick! You're still hurt!"

"I know. But if I distracted him with a swordfight, you could shoot this,” he pulled out a net gun. “and wrap us together. The cloak and my undersuit would protect me, and you could get Ilana or Hobbs to knock him out.”

"I can't shoot someone! You saw me at laser tag!" they stuttered.

Lance tilted his head, thinking back, "Actually I didn't see you there."

"Exactly! I can't shoot. Get the gun to Hobbs or Ilana, they can do it. You shouldn’t be fighting, either.” They still insisted on it.

“I’m fine.” He gritted out. “We need to move.” The undersuit was doing its work. He stood up, putting the sword across his back. Wirt quickly grabbed the cloak and gun from the floor. Lance stood, breathing slowly so it wouldn’t hurt.

They walked slowly through the halls, Wirt staying close. The ache in his chest grew. His vision swam. Lance halted, afraid to move. A steady arm stopped him from falling. The sword was taken off of his back. Wirt cast his arm around their shoulder. "I know you don't care. But Ilana and Newton do. Take care of yourself, at least for us."

"Okay." He said weakly. Something unfurled in his chest, warming him. With the support of his friends, he didn't have to hurt. They shuffled through the hallway together.

**To be concluded…**


	10. Earn Your Happy Ending

**Chapter 10 – Earn Your Happy Ending**

The hallways seemed endless. The pair shuffled along, Wirt supporting Lance, one step at a time. “How about we stop at the cafeteria? There's plenty of seats. We can rest there. Maybe Octus can bring a medical pod to you."

Lance flipped his helmet up, calling his friend. There was no answer. “Something happened.”

Wirt’s face pinched, fearing the worst. They approached the doors, opening them to find the area in ruins. Benches were overturned, there was a clash of swords in the distance. Wirt let out a snort. They heard Lance gasp, “Ilana!” Wirt looked toward the noise.

There she was, fighting with Baron, swords blurring in the light. A tornado of blue and red, tearing through the room. She was fighting for her life. "She's winning." Lance gasped. She looked impressive, blocking every hit like she was born a warrior. Baron still looked at ease. "We need to get her as far away as possible." He tried moving, but without Wirt’s support he faltered.

His friend rushed to him, steadying him. Then they cast their eyes around. A group of benches were barricading their friends together. Wirt found Octus’s blue form, but. "Something's going on.” They pointed to their friend. “You know him better. Help them."

Lance nodded casting his eyes back to the battle, "Help her."

"I will." Wirt left him leaning up on a bench, near Hobbs. They steeled themselves. "Hey!" They shouted. The pair kept fighting, too involved to pay them mind. Wirt sighed, getting the net gun ready to go in his pocket and a good grip on the sword in the other. "I'm...really getting in there." They took a deep breath and charged.

-

Octus was stumbling, shell flickering between his human disguise and his blue casing. Baron must have attacked him with the taser. It probably overloaded his systems, and he took the chance to kill Ilana. Baron underestimated her, and Lance never felt more proud.

Octus finally noticed him, walking to his place on the floor. The robots face flickered back to Newton. The yellow core glowed in time with his words, lighting his shirt up. "Lance! You're here! Can you please talk to him?" he pointed to his back.

Hobbs was climbing Newton, knife in hand. "Octus needs to be reset! Protocol ORI isn't working!"

"Get off me! I'm not a robot! I'm Newton!" He pulled the general off, gently putting him back in his chair. Hobbs tried to wrestle the robot with his arms, but to no avail. He sighed and looked at Lance.

"He's more than just a robot, Hobbs." Lance said. "Listen. Baron had a watch that was connected with the mainframe. Get to a terminal and cut him off. I'll help Newton and we can help you."

"Right." Hobbs sped away.

"Okay big guy. What happened to you?" Lance asked.

Newton's hand pressed on his forehead. "I dunno, I feel woozy."

"Baron shocked'm with a stick!" Greg jumped in. "And then he started to fight Ilana!"

"We need to help Ilana. Can you make a shield around him?"

Newton frowned. "I don't understand. I can't do that, I'm a boy.” He raised his arms, flapping them. “Got these regular, non-stretchy limbs."

"What?"

"Yeah! If he says he's a boy, he’s a boy!" Greg jumped up to defend his friend. Newton cast his arm around Greg, hugging him. The child giggled.

"Then try to connect with the mainframe wirelessly. Please, we have to get an advantage on Baron!" he tried, desperately.

Newton’s face twisted in confusion. The shell of Newton’s skin failed for a second, pushing Greg into Newton’s empty chest space. “Woah!” he stumbled, raising his hands up high and catching onto Newton’s core. The wires didn’t stretch, forcing Newton to sit down. “Cool! I’ve never hugged someone this small before!” Greg put the core in his lap, wrapping his arms around it.

“Ugh. I feel so…strange. Like I had too much soda.”

“Blugh.” Greg empathized, tongue sticking out.

Lance’s eyes widened. Newton was processing everything as an organic would. He just had to find a way to tell him to reset. "If you're feeling weird, just take a nap. Switch off for a bit. You'll feel better when you wake up."

"Yup! Growing boys need lots of rest! That’s what the old people say!" he patted Newton’s core gently.

He paused, considering. "You'll be here, right?" Newton said, fear coloring his voice.

He had to help him. Lance steadied himself, grabbing Newton’s hand, like he’d seen Wirt do. "I promise." Something in his coding seemed to have trusted him, because Newton sat down, wrapping his hands around himself.

“Good night Greg. Good night Lance.” He briefly flashed into his pajamas, before his shell disappeared and his limbs retracted inward.

Greg shifted a little to let him curl up, still holding onto him. “Good night, Newton! Don’t let the space bugs bite!” he patted his core.

The light turned off, bringing up sickening memories of not too long ago. Lance reached out, touching the core carefully. “Good night, Newton.”

-

"I'm...really getting in there."

Wirt charged; and then immediately stopped. Baron and Ilana had not even noticed them, wrapped up in their fight. What were they thinking? They can’t fight like that!

Not a second too soon, they were noticed. "YOU!" Baron’s eyes locked onto Wirt. "You should have stayed dead!" Ilana took the opportunity and tried to attack. But he blocked, sparks flying off of both of their swords.

They just have to distract Baron…and they know enough about him to try. “Oh yeah! Well-well you should stop trying to kill people!” Wirt groaned internally. That was bad. They tried to make up for it, rushing at Baron and swinging his sword. If they could just hit his side, injure him and make him slow down, this would all be easier.

Baron smirked, taken his open hand and drawing a second sword. He blocked, causing Wirt to stumble back. “You’ll be such a disappointment after Lance. Tell me, have you fought before?”

They weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the surreal circumstances, “A gorilla.” Wirt said flatly. Maybe their idea of distracting him could work. Out of the corner of their eye, Wirt saw Ilana pause too. Or maybe not.

Baron’s eyes narrowed. “Was a fearsome creature? Did you vanquish it?”

“Oh. Oh yes! He had a little trouble getting out of his costume, but he’s really just fine!” Wirt chuckled nervously. They moved toward Ilana, getting their hand on the net gun in his cloak. If they could hand it off, she could help. They quickly made eye contact. “This is absolutely crazy, huh? What is this guy’s deal?” Wirt said casually, ignoring the murderer in the room.

Baron took the bait, lowering his guard. “Why are you speaking about me like I’m not here?” A direct hit the ego, right in his big pointy nose.

Wirt kept going. “I can’t believe – well no, now some things make sense. No wonder you’re so mad about the cafeteria food!” Wirt inched closer to Ilana, keeping an eye on Baron. “Lance is okay, by the way. Mostly okay. Not dead yet!” they did a painfully forced smile. “That sounds worse than it is.”

“He’s _alive_!?!” Baron called out. The grip loosened on his swords. “Low born vermin, can’t even die right!”

They didn’t miss the way Ilana’s eyes narrowed. “That’s good, Wirt, but this isn’t the time.” She curtly replied.

Wirt took the plunge, closing their eyes and shouting “He could beat you any day of the week, but you _had_ to go and use a dirty trick! Dishonor upon you!”

Baron scoffed, now fully focused on them. “What do you know of hon-”

They made their voice vile and booming. “Dishonor on your family!” Wirt cut him off, pulling the gun out and shoving it to Ilana.

He flinched, insulted. One sword was sheathed, and his hand was brought to his chest, “My family is the grandest line of Galalunians-”

“Dishonor on your cow!” They had to keep Baron’s attention, glaring at him with all their might.

The barest hint of confusion was on his face before Wirt heard a noise from their side. Baron disappeared, the force of the net crashing him into a table.

“Yes!” Ilana cheered. She threw her arms around Wirt. “Thank you!”

“No big deal. You did it.” They mumbled.

They cautiously approached Baron, who was struggling with the netting. His eyes narrowed as they got close. “Dishonor on both of you.” He spat out.

Ilana frowned, concerned. "You trained to be part of the Royal Guard. You took an oath to protect me. What happened to you, Baron?”

"I follow the strongest. Modulla is far superior to you weak traitors!"

She flinched. "What? General Modulla? He died!”

"Then your father should have died with him!" Baron bit back.

Ilana stood still, the reality of it coming down. Her father’s oldest friend, leading the Mutraddi, destroying her home.

Wirt broke her out of it. "Wow.” They deadpanned. “This really is a space opera. Hidden princesses, evil undead generals, brainless followers." They gestured to Baron. “I’ve got him, Ilana. Go see Lance.”

“Right.” She shook her head, leaving them be.

Baron watched her go, then his eyes flicked back to Wirt. "You think you know me?"

"I know this story. We’ve defeated you. She’ll find a way back to her home and fight this General Modulla and take her planet back. It’s her coming of age.” Wirt reasoned. “You’re just a Mook. Maybe not a faceless one, you’ve clearly got history with Lance. But you’ll still fail.”

“You with your stories, hiding behind your words! Your body is still weak.” Baron smirked. “Like this net.”

“Wha-”

Baron tore out of the net, raising his sword to strike. He was fast. Wirt was faster, taking the sword Lance gave him and blocking. Baron’s face was aghast, mouth open.

"Had to sub for color guard once or twice." Then they added, hurriedly mumbling, "And I wanted to be a Jedi." Baron grunted in response. Wirt took their hand off the sword for a second, letting Baron push forward. They made their hand into a fist and swung in a half-second.

Baron caught it, smirking. "It's almost like you haven't faced a true opponent before. You don't have the determination, the will to kill me." Baron was learning, trying to use their tactic against them.

Too bad Wirt doesn’t care. They ran closer to their friends, hoping that Ilana would hear the noise. "You're lacking something too. You don't measure up." Wirt smiled as they saw Octus was back online.

"What? Lies!" The anger he had was viciously channeled into a harsh blow. “You’re weak!”

A booming voice interrupted them. “But they’re not alone.” Newton had awoken, clad in his usual white button down shirt.

Wirt smiled. "You've lost already. Everyone knows you're trying kill the princess. You're not safe on the colony anymore. They know how much of a monster you really are." They were finally nearby their friends, they cast a hand around to them.

Baron flinched, seeing Greg, Newton and Ilana surround him. “Then - then I'll hide out on Earth! It's a big planet."

"You don't know anything about Earth.” They smiled, feeling the victory. “Do you even know what up dog is?"

"I don't care! I'll survive."

"I doubt that." That was a mistake, in hindsight.

"You doubt my ability? Fine! I'll show you!" Baron dived, gathering Greg in his arms. The tip of his sword was right at his throat. “I can get whatever I want.”

Their world tilted on its axis. "Greg!"

"Wirt!" their brother cried out. He squirmed, but the soldier had him in an iron grip.

Baron quickly looked between Ilana and Greg. “Grant me amnesty!"

The boy suddenly stopped. "Huh?"

"You're the ambassador! Wipe my crimes from the record! Say it or your head gets cut off!" he demanded.

He grew slack, confused look on his face. "That so dumb! Why would-!"

"NOT _NOW_ GREG!” Wirt shouted, a little too forcefully. “Just, tell him he's got amnesty." Their voice shook.

"You have ant city. Am nester?” Greg muddled the word.

“Good enough. Now, to make sure, you’re coming with me planetside.” Baron grunted, trying to pull them toward the exit.

“No!”

What else could he want? Inspiration came in a flash. “Wait! Remember what we talked about earlier?” Wirt sucked in a breath, trying to make themselves calmer. “I want to make a deal, Baron. I’ll swear loyalty to you, I‘ll help you navigate Earth, only if you stop hurting my friends. I don’t care about the others, just let Greg go.”

“No! You can’t!” Lance shouted, trying to reach, but faltering.

Baron smirked, casting his head to his rival. “What did I tell you, Lance? The weak will trade anything for protection, even betray their own!”

“I’m not betraying them. I’m protecting them.” Wirt slipped a hand in their pocket, stepping forward.

“Whatever lies you tell yourself is no concern.” Baron brought his hand forward, and Greg darted away. “You’ve clearly chosen the more powerful ally.”

“We shake barehanded on Earth, Baron. You may want to start practicing blending in now.” They forced a steely gaze.

“Of course.” He sheathed his sword, taking care to remove his gloves.

“You don’t have to do this!” Hobbs shouted.

“Or what, he just uses his link to the main computer to reverse the gravity like last time? No. I’m doing this.”

“I’m ready for my lesson in proper handshakes, Wirt.”

“Eye contact is important.” They said, waiting until Baron had locked eyes with them. “And a firm grip, it’s pretty important not to show weakness, obviously.”

“I’m anything but weak.”

“You sure about that?” And Wirt struck, clapping a patch right on Baron’s palm.

“What?” Baron tried to move away, but Wirt pulled down, slapping another patch on his forehead. “Huh?” his face drooped. In an instant, he was on the floor.

Wirt sucked in a breath, once, twice, waiting for something else. But Baron was down, eyes closed. It was over.

Greg immediately ran over, and Wirt hugged him tight. “Are you okay?” They lifted up his neck, but there was not a scratch on him.

“Right as rain, brother o’ mine!” Greg replied.

Baron let out a snore.

Wirt flinched. They looked at their gathered friends. “Hey can we get a medical pod? I dunno how long this is gonna last.”

They had identical looks of concern on their faces “What?” Ilana gasped. “Are humans…venomous or something?”

Wirt couldn’t help a snort. "Sleep patches.” They dug some out of their pockets. “Came with the cloak." Wirt shrugged, eyes narrowing. "What, he kidnapped Greg you think I was gonna let him kidnap me? I had no intention of helping him. Just needed to get close enough to touch." They stepped aside as Newton slung Baron over his shoulder.

"What if he was immune?" Hobbs wheeled up.

"Then I’d go with him and feed him terrible information. We’d get caught, I explain that he put a knife to my brother’s throat, and I’d get a free pass. Not that hard.”

"Wirt...you're a lot different than I thought." Ilana said.

"Umm. Thanks?”

The room went quiet. Lance started to laugh, but it turned into a cough.

Wirt ran to their friend. “Are you okay? Oh gosh, you _died_ , Lance!” They pressed a hand to his head.

“I’m fine,” Lance growled.

“You should probably get to a healing pod as well, Lance.” Octus said. He reached for his friend and cradled him close to his body. Wirt trailed after them like a lost puppy, and everyone followed to the Medical Bay.

When he was safely in a pod, and when Baron was fully placed in Cold Sleep, Ilana spoke up. “Baron should stand trial. We have to take him back.”

Hobbs shook his head, looking at the Princess fondly. “I’ll take him back. Once everything is settled, I can send for you and we can do a proper trial.” The general nodded his head. “I have to go back to help the colony.”

Wirt blinked. "Don't you have a job? Weren't you, like Royal Guard or something?"

Hobbs sighed. “Looking at you, how you all did facing Baron…I see that Princess Ilana has all the protection she needs.” He smiled warmly at the group.

Ilana cast her arms around him. “I missed you. Don’t forget to call.”

Newton had turned to Wirt and Greg. His expression was serious. “The things you saw here, you can’t tell anyone else. We have to remain protected. No one can know we’re Titan.”

Wirt nodded. “Agreed.” They knelt down to Greg’s level. “Greg, this is their secret. We can’t tell anyone what happened today.”

The child nodded. “Right. Their secret.”

Wirt looked up. “Today, Lance drove me from school to pick up Greg. We found him in the woods, then we played hide and seek with his family until we went home.”

“That’s our lullaby.” Greg declared.

“Alibi.” Wirt corrected.

“Alibi!”

“I’ll take you back to the transport pod.” Newton offered.

Wirt started to shake their head, but Greg pulled at their cloak. “No, not yet, gotta show you something!" He dragged his brother out of the room, running quickly to the Observation Deck. Wirt paled at the sight of the large windows. The expanse of space was massive. They could see the Earth, ice blue underneath thousands of little white stars in an eternity of black. Greg pushed himself right on the glass. "I think I can see the woods from here!"

"Greg! Get away from the window!" They twitched, not ready to collect him.

"The planet you chose to defend is beautiful." Hobbs said. "Don't you want to get closer?"

Wirt shook their head, "Ah! Nope! I really just wanna get back to solid ground."

Hobbs shrugged, wheeling over to Greg. They were looking out the open window, at the spinning earth below. Greg was gesturing wildly about all of the animals, and Hobbs was listening intently. Wirt couldn't bring himself to move close to them.

Ilana followed after, with a tablet in hand. “I’ve got the Ambassador Rules and Codes of Conduct. I've bookmarked section 7 for you. It has the protocol Greg needs to remove himself from office." She gave it to Wirt.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Wirt asked. “Or else…should I not know to protect myself?”

“Actually. I’d like for you to become ambassador.”

Wirt slammed the tablet close to their chest. “What? There _has_ to be someone more qualified! Like, an adult or someone?”

“They would have their own loyalties. You’ve proven yourself to be a good friend.” She smiled.

"You don't have to agree right now. Just, think it over. I know you don't think of yourself as much. But look at what you've done. This is a beautiful planet, Wirt. Help us protect it."

They flinched, looking down at the tablet. "I...wanna read this over. Figure it out on my terms, before I agree to anything.”

“I understand.”

Greg walked back to them. “Look! My tooth fell out!” He waved his little hand with the tooth in it. Ilana winced and Hobbs looked a little concerned. “It’s a really special tooth ‘cause I lost it in _space_! I hope the Tooth Fairy gives me something good!”

“Good job!” Wirt hugged him. “But it’s been a really long day for everyone, you can’t stay up for her.”

“I can stay up for her this time, Wirt, I mean it! I got a plan! Jason Funderburker takes first watch, then Robbie Raccoon, then I wake up super super early! It’s foolproof!”

“Whatever you say.”

The door whooshed open. Newton led in, smiling. Lance was walking, looking tired but not near death as he did before. Ilana ran forward, hugging them.

“Are you feeling better?” Ilana asked.

“I’ll be fine.” He looked at the others. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Let’s go home!” Greg patted his belly. “I’m hungry!”

“And you?” Lance looked at Wirt.

“I could use something to eat.” They agreed.

Lance’s brows knitted together. “How – how about tomorrow? At the Promenade?”

“Sounds good. It’s a date.” Their mouth clacked shut. “I – I mean if you want it to be a date, I mean, clearly we have to talk about _all this_ …” Wirt gestured wildly at the ship, furiously blushing.

Lance felt a blush creep up as well. “I guess we do.”

Wirt decided to ride out this feeling of bravery. They dived forward, hugging Lance.

He returned it, strong arms carefully wrapping around their body.

Wirt started to talk, pulling away a little bit. “I guess no one could’ve said this to you before, but um.” They looked at their friends, from Hobbs to Newton, Ilana and Lance again. They put on a friendly face.

“Welcome to Earth.”

**The End**

**.**

Notes: Well. That’s all! I did it! Thank you for reading this wild adventure, I hope you had a great time, the gift shop is around the corner!

**Author's Note:**

> The deleted scenes/epilogues were written out, but never made it in the fic, so if some don't match up, it doesn't matter. I just don't want the words to go to waste.


End file.
